


The odd life of Aalaryn Rouskova, Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah

by izarnia



Category: WoT
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izarnia/pseuds/izarnia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aalaryn Rouskova is an Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah.  She finds through study in the White Tower's Great Library that the original purpose of the Red Ajah was not hunting down male channelers but instead governing over the misuse of the One Power.  Aalaryn feels she must make amends and heads out to find the black coated men who make up the army of the Dragon Reborn.  This is her story which is told out through role-play on a MUD.  Between chapters there will be her own internal thoughts and writings in her journals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aalaryn meets the Asha

A small crowd has gathered at the southernmost practice yard, perhaps the smallest of all the barren pockmarked fields that dot the Black Tower grounds. In the very center of the field a rudimentary structure has been erected, perhaps the size of a large barn or the first floor of an inn though shoddily constructed of tightly Saidin-compacted dirt and mud. There are several dark entrances - crude doorways - at various intervals along the outer walls of the structure. A cadre of Asha'man, three talon leaders included, stand a few spans before the southern-facing wall, solemnly waiting for the arrival of the focus of this test. A small group of Soldiers spectate, two or three lines deep, behind the ranking brothers.

On approach to the southern yard, Tiernan is looking far more presentable than usual. High-collared black coat buttoned and pressed - or made to look so - face clean-shaven and back straight, his expression is cautious, but confident. Moving deliberately up near the crude earthen shed/barn, the Rahien cocks an eyebrow at it, peering curiously at the darkened doorways before turning to salute the assembled Asha'man. Fist clapping smartly to his chest, he makes direct eye contact with each of his superiors.

Tarem is standing just to the fore of the other two Talon leaders - the Baijan'm'hael and Rahien'm'haels, respectively - at the end of the line of High Asha'man. He returns Tiernan's salute in a cursory fashion once the younger man has made it to him, and one of the Asha'man in the row directly behind him turns to shoo away the onlookers until just the M'haels and Tiernan remain. "Dedicated Laoranth," he begins. "Today is the day we shall see if you have it in you to earn the Dragon pin." The older man's chin lifts slightly as he peers down at the Dedicated. "Do you feel ready to ascend to full brother? You have fulfilled your duties here well but one more test does lie before you." 

Tiernan drops the salute once each of the Asha'man has responded to it, opening his stance from full attention to parade rest. Regarding the older Asha'man seriously, the Dedicated also lifts his chin, pride and confidence keeping his voice steady and sure. "I am ready, Aldazar'm'hael." His attention is focused on Tarem, but he holds himself prepared.

A chill Spring wind flows through the open southern gates, lightly frosting the breath of those gathered in the late-afternoon air; the forest beyond is only just starting to show signs of rebounding from winter's clutches, splashes of verdance here and there among the dead limbs. "Good," Tarem's reply is flat and final, not quite ominous. "Not everyone gets to enjoy this one, but Brother Narishma blessed me with it at mine own Asha'man test, and I thought you of all people would appreciate it." A dip of his chin designates the mysterious mound in the middle of the yard as the subject. "It's quite simple. Enter through this door," he obviously means the southernmost 'hole' in the wall, "And exit to the north. There are a few surprises in there, but nothing I'm sure you can't handle. We've only lost a few dozen Dedicated to this thing so..your chances are more than fair." His words have a perfunctory ring to them. 

Tiernan grins with just the left side of his mouth, Tarem's words seeming to empower rather than unnerve him, the ominous finality of it all sparking interest rather than inquietude. "My chances are more than fair anyway, Asha'man," the Rahien says with a more-than-healthy dose of self-assurance. "Begin at any time?" he checks before actually attacking the maze.

Having found the gate surprisingly unlocked and ajar, Aalaryn cautiously wanders in the compound looking for someone, anyone, to announce herself to.

Tarem bows his head graciously, one hand sweeping out palm-up in a "go for it" kind of gesture to the eager lad. The mound looms ominously and appears much smaller than it actually is - once you get close you see it's a solid several-hundred square feet, perhaps fifteen-hundred. Just as the Dedicated approaches the structure the yard is flooded with bird-calls, sharp and strident and alarming. The group of Asha'man was already in the process of moving around to the northern-most side of the maze when this happens, so Tiernan - still at the door to the mound - is closest to the gate at this point. "What in the Light?" A slight commotion begins to stir deeper into the Farm. 

Late afternoon sun throws a long shadow off from the tall, black-coated figure that has begun a slow walk towards the grounds where the promotion ceremony is soon to begin. The young man's head is bowed, his dark eyes intent upon the small, leather-bound book that rests between the thumb and pinky of his right hand. His left hand, likewise, is lifted, his palm against the side of his neck, while the long, tapered fingers rub against the back of his neck. His head lifts abruptly, snapping his attention away from the small journal, his dark eyes darting back and forth while the sound of hundreds of chirping jays all but echoes from the walls. The young Dedicated turns, his long coat flaring out as he spins, the molten light of the late afternoon sun glinting off the small silver pins on his collar, one the curving sword of Dedicated, the second the small shield of his talon, Aethan. With his abrupt change of direction, Telir sets off for the woman who has found her way to the home of the Asha'man, the Farm. 

When invited, Tiernan abruptly wraps his mind in the shelter of the Void and slams his will into the raging firestorm of Saidin, pulling from its torrid depths nearly as much as he can handle safely, preparing to enter the unknown maze. Before he can take a step, bird calls - unnatural and alarming, specifically for this purpose - alert the Rahien to the presence of an unexpected visitor. Surrounded by chaos and threat, the Dedicated spins and starts moving at a jog to the very gate that separates the Black Tower from the rest of the world. It doesn't take him long to spot the single woman making her way up the drive. 

As fast as thought, Spirit flies from within the fiery icestorm, shaping itself into a long, thin blade, the edge -very- vaguely blunted, and slams hard into the place any ethereal connection between the stranger and the One Power would flow from, Shielding as a matter of course, putting virtually all his considerable will into that purpose. Calling out for his superiors and anyone else who is coming to respond to the alarms, "Sedai! Sedai on the Farm!" He doesn't know that for sure, but given recent events, better safe than sorry. 

Aalaryn's steps slow as the chorus of bird calls fill the air - read as the alarm goes off. Stopping in her tracks, she looks around her immediate area and decides to stay put, resing her hands camly at her sides. Even though she may want to embrace the source, she does not. As the very thought of the power passes her mind she feels her ability to even reach out and touch saidar muted, she's been shielded. At least she knows now she's in the right place.

Tarem emerges from around the side of the big mud maze, walking perhaps a bit faster than usual though he does not appear too tremendously alarmed - his brow is furrowed in puzzlement, rather. "Bloody hell - Sandir, go scrawl out a message to the Dragon." After the man tailing him hesitates Tarem looks back pointedly, "Now! Go!" sending the Dedicated rushing off towards the heart of the Farm. The older man slinks into the Void and seizes Saidin as well, throwing together his own Shield for good measure as he comes closer to Tiernan and Aalaryn. "What the bloody hell are you doing, woman? Trying to get yourself killed, wandering in here? Who are you?" His words are obviously for the shielded Sedai.

Telir's long coat billows out behind the slender young man as his long legs eat the distance between himself and the seemingly unexpected arrival who happens to take the form of an Aes Sedai clad in red. The Dedicated's features drain of surprise and alarm, his dark eyes hardening, becoming almost reflective in quality, a change of expression that would mark him as enveloping himself in the calm stillness of the Void. The Andoran's steps slow, one long stride flowing into a shorter step, until almost as if he had never picked up his pace the Aethan is once again at a casual walk. The sense of menace that accompanies a man throwing himself into the violent torrent of freezing fire and molten ice of Saidin springs suddenly around Telir, though he does nothing as Tiernan has taken the appropriate measures already. His small journal, until now obviously a forgotten accoutrement, snaps closed as he lowers it. The right hand, holding the small leather-bound book, as well as his left hand find their way into the voluminous pockets of his long black coat. Without adding another word into the fray, the Dedicated steps into place near the other two T-named black-coats, his flat gaze centered on the intruder. 

Emotionless and still, keeping his distance from the woman in red, Tiernan maintains his heavy-duty Shield even as Tarem strides up beside him and adds his own. Void notwithstanding, his right hand is balled into a fist, an unconscious gesture he neither prompted nor notices. As the Aldazar'm'hael is doing the talking for now, the young Kandori waits, his flat, lifeless green eyes fixed solidly on the Aes Sedai. Around and through him, Saidin rages, lifeblood and the pull of the grave swarming in perfect counterpoint. [Tiernan]

Aalaryn lifts her hands slowly to show that she holds no weapons, a small effort made most likely too late to indicate that she means no harm. "My name is Aalaryn Rouskova, Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah," her voice is calm and clear, "I apologize for trespassing in your Academy uninvited. I had hoped to meet with one of your Order," she lowers her hands just as slowly back to her sides, "however I had hoped that the meeting would begin smoother."

Tarem's eyes narrow slightly as he spares a quick sidelong glance for Tiernan, measuring the younger man for a moment before his regard returns to Aalaryn. "You, woman," he begins, his voice harsh and ragged though with an element of sarcastic joviality or relief in the background, "Are lucky you aren't more than a pile of ashes where you stand." His narrow chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath, clasping hands behind himself. "Well done, Dedicated Tiernan. I've half a mind to give you your damn Dragon, you reacted so well. We'll chat later. As for now, would you kindly escort our Aes Sedai guest onto the Farm? And you -" he turns to pin another brother, a Soldier, with his gaze "-Go spread word to keep all of our other 'guests' indoors for the time being. No need to cause a stir." He looks back to Tiernan, "Find some Aethan brothers and..ahh, Telir," he finally seems to notice the other man. "Brother Telir - gather a few of your squad mates and take her to the interrogation house. You and Tiernan are to speak with her first, I'll join you after I go find Ran..the Lord Dragon. He must hear of this immediately."

Telir stands, outwardly placid, his features holding no hint of anger, or fear, nothing but the cold, calm confidence that comes from being enfolded in the Void. The young man's cold-eyed gaze travels over the red-clad Aes Sedai, almost tangibly taking the woman's measure. He remains silent as Tarem begins to give orders, scarcely appearing even blink until the older Asha'man turns his attention towards Telir. The Dedicated's head turns towards the older red-and-gold-pinned Aldazar'm'hael as he is given his own orders. The Andoran's head nods as the heels of his boots come together with a click, his right hand, balled into a fist is extracted from the voluminous pocket of his long coat, to thump against his chest, over his heart, "Immediately, Asha'man." He begins to turn away, quickly enough that the long tail of his coat flares out behind him. His head turns before his first step, however, sparing a quick glance towards Tiernan to whom he offers a small nod. Not another words is spared for the small gathering as Telir steps off in the direction of the Farm proper, his long legs eating away at the distance. 

Tiernan stares at Aalaryn as if the power of his gaze alone could melt the woman into a puddle on the drive. His reaction to her introduction is to reclench his right fist, hard enough that two of his knuckles pop - a sound that will be quiet but recognizable to the One Power-enhanced senses of the blackcoats on either side of him. Having been the (un)fortunate one to have dealt with the Other Red in their initial, tense, negotiations, it should not be surprising that the Rahien focuses all his attention and well more than enough Saidin to maintain his Shield on the little Sedai before them. Tarem's praise gets a single nod of recognition and understanding, but the man himself does not draw Tiernan's cold gaze away from his prey, despite the dangled promotion teaser.

Thumping his already-balled fist to his chest, Tiernan works to follow his orders. Splitting a tiny fraction of his will away from the Shield, he weaves out two thick, flat bands of Air and - not too gently - slaps them around Aalaryn's upper arms and midsection to trap her arms at her sides while leaving her legs free. A third breath of Air solidifies for just a moment behind her as he slaps her backside with it the way a rider would a horse. "Walk," he instructs coldly, gesturing off at the retreating Aethan to indicate precisely where the Red should direct her steps. 

Key words ring in the Arafellin's ears. 'Other Guests', 'Interrogation House', and 'Lord Dragon'. She purses her lips and a resigned sigh follows. She knew quite well that her presnence, anounced or not, may not be recieved in a positive light. The sudden use of saidin fueled air binding her arms quickly to her sides causes her to gasp out loud, and as she's spanked with the same natured air she frowns sourly but remains quiet for now, heated words will do no good at this time.

Tarem nods coldly to both Telir and Tiernan as they each receive the orders, his frown returning somewhat as he watches the Aes Sedai pass him by. "I trust our methods will be followed, lads," he says to the black backs of the two Dedicated. "Please insure she is in good condition to explain herself to the Lord Dragon, once I track him down." That said Tarem pivots sharply on one heel, beginning to stride directly west towards a relatively unoccupied area of the Farm; after his second footfall however a gateway suddenly snaps into place, the window widening just enough to permit him as he passes through and winking out of existence directly after. The attentive ones will have caught a glimpse of snowy plains in the portal.

Aalaryn moves towards the structure indicated by Tiernan, not too fast and not too slow for she does not want to cause more of a scene than she has already. "My only request," she speaks as she walks, "is that for my horse. I left him at the gate, he is very gentle and I would ask that he be cared for. While I am attached to him, if you or your," her voice turns inquisitive, "brothers need a mount he is yours."

The young Aethan wastes no time heading deeper into the Farm complex, not bothering to wait for any to catch up with him, he obviously expects to be followed. He does not deign to speak with those behind him, for it seems that there is not yet a need to do so. The Dedicated draws himself to a halt at the closed, heavy wooden door to a small building set just on the outskirts of the Farm. It only once he has reached this destination that he turns, both of his hands once more resting comfortably within the confines of the pockets of his coat. He stands impassively watching the approach of both the bound Red and the black-coated man who follows her, his left brow arched faintly onto his forehead, though it appears more an affectation, than any real sense of impatience. Once the pair draw close, the young man weaves a single thick thread of air, sculpting the flow to push against the barricade to the small building. The door swings inward easily, revealing a darkened room that seems to hold little in the way of furnishing. It is only once this door is opened that he speaks, his voice every bit as cold as his dark eyes, "Enter." 

"Asha'man," Tiernan says in compliance and farewell to the departing Aldazar'm'hael. To the Aes Sedai, he says nothing. When she has moved past him to follow Telir where the Aethan leads, he turns a sharp about face and falls in behind her, his steps matching hers from several paces back. He caught her, so he gets to keep her, but this is Telir's show now, and the Rahien does not begrudge him his Talon's purpose. Should Aalaryn resist entering as commanded, Tiernan will spank her ass again to get her moving without actually touching her, but otherwise - for now - he acts as her warden. Silent, watchful, and oppressive. Not unlike the thick miasma which has settled around him, focused on the sole design of holding her. 

Aalaryn enters the room that she has been led to. Dark or not she remains calm and if able to, looks about for something to sit on. It is now evident to her that conversing with her hosts is going to be a wasted effort until they have something that they wish to say, or know. She does however murmur a polite, "Thank you," as the door was opened for her.

Telir inclines his head briefly towards the honey-tressed woman at her murmured thanks as he turns to enter the small building himself. The young Dedicated takes a few steps further into the room, angling himself so that he might step up and behind Aalaryn while staying just out of the arm's reach of the woman. Thin flows of air and fire curl about themselves before the young man, writhing together as they knit, slowly wrapping to form a ball. A fine weave of spirit enfolds the air and fire, holding them together in space. Once the form is complete light sparks from within the orb, casting shadowy illumination about the room. A single small stool sits close to one wall of the building, though there appears to be nothing else within the room. The young man's left hand lifts from the pocket of his coat to extend towards that single stool, his palm turned towards the ceiling, gesturing for the woman to sit, "Please."

For his part, content to remain a silent observer, Tiernan moves into one of the darker shadows and props himself up against the wall, his stark black uniform fading almost seemlessly as if the darkness had been waiting to enfold him in its embrace. Obviously he does not vanish from view, but the Rahien does his best to be unobtrusive - he is a guest, after all. His contribution remains in the form of his bindings of Air about the Red's upper body and the thick, tight Shield held fast and steady between her and the One Power. 

Again a soft, "Thank you," can be heard. The power is a marvelous thing and it can be quite interesting when watching it's work from the opposite side. Many times she has taught how to create an orb of light but for the first time in her life she marvels at how it is made with such practiced ease by the Asha'man. Finding the stool easily with the aid of the light, Aalaryn sits down. 

Another thick flow of air forces the heavy wooden door closed once more, a hollow thump sounds throughout the room. His head tilts slightly off to the side as the small orb of light drifts off towards the corner of the room, "Now, miss. I do hope you understand our alarm at someone walking into our domain unannounced." His voice escapes his lips in a calm, measured fashion, both brows faintly lifted onto his forehead. He takes a slow step towards the center of the room, his cold, dark brown eyes focusing on the seated woman, "Might we have your name?" A single thick flow of Earth is forced down into the packed dirt floor of the room, driving a solid block of packed dirt to rise behind him. Both of the young man's hands are finally removed from the voluminous pockets of his long black coat to smooth the length of his coat as he settles himself onto his make-shift stool. His head turns slightly, regarding Tiernan for a moment before turning his attention back towards Aalaryn, his dark eyes direct and piercing. [Telir]

Tiernan keeps his cold green eyes staring fixedly on the Aes Sedai, his purpose here quite clear, and he more than willing to perform it. His hands have relaxed from their previous clenched balls and he puts them in his own pockets even as Telir empties his. The Rahien now looks both perfectly at ease, reclined back into the shadows against the wall, and blankly focused, the Void stealing away all impressions both inside and out. His hold on Saidin does not diminish by even a hair's breadth, and the Shield and bars of Air remain staunchly in place.

Aalaryn inclines her head in a nod to Telir, "I understand. As I said before, alarm was not my intention but it was the result." She watches as he fashions himself a seat out of earth by use of the power, a use for earth she had never thought of before. She too looks to Tiernan before looking back to Telir. "My name is Aalaryn Rouskova."

Telir nods briefly, his right leg lifting slowly to cross over his left, the ankle of his right boot resting lightly against the bent knee of his left leg. The young man's hands are placed against the bar of his right calf, his flat baritone continue on, "I appreciate your understanding." As the ageless-looking women answers with her name, the Dedicated nods, "I would say that it is a pleasure, but I am afraid it would sound disingenuous." Telir's back straightens, his hands sliding away from his leg to fall down by his sides, pressing down against the earthen stool that he had crafted for himself, "I am Dedicated Telir Celidar." The young man draws a slow, measured breath, expanding his chest visibly before he continues, those dark eyes unflinching in their study of the woman seated across from him, "What is it that brings you to intrude upon our farm?"

Tiernan continues to watch, his focus solely on the Aes Sedai, no expression readable on his blank face. The long shadows of the room cast by the Aethan's solitary light remain fixed, growing out like fingers from the darkness, like the monster every child fears is reaching up from under the bed. The young Kandori keeps himself reclined back within one of those tendrils as if he alone was not afraid of the cold, heartless black of night.

Aalaryn shifts her feet a touch so that she is sitting more comfortably upon her stool, her feet together at the ankles, knees bent and drawn slighly to the right, it's the best way for her to sit and remain ladylike currently. "I have come for knowledge and with the hope to begin a new, positive, relationship with your Order. I admit that I did not know whom to contact in order for this to happen which led me to enter uninvited." 

The Aethan's tongue clicks softly against the roof of his mouth as the Aes Sedai answers, his head inclines in a brief nod to her explanation. His head turns after moment, those cold, dark brown eyes moving towards Tiernan's rather ominous figure standing off against the wall. As he begins to swing his attention back towards the capture Red, he speaks to his fellow Asha'man, "If you would, Dedicated, the restraints are likely unnecessary." The young man's head tilts faintly off to the side once more, the twin tendrils of hair brushing against his face as they slide across his features, "I am not certain you understand the gravity of the situation, Aalaryn Sedai." Both hands lift, coming together before the young man's chest, his fingers lacing save for the forefinger of each hand, which press against each other to make a single pointer. This pointer he lifts further to tap lightly against his lower lip, "Our agreement stated that any Aes Sedai who enters our domain forfeits her right to life to us." 

Tiernan twitches an eyebrow at Telir when the Andoran indicates the wrap of Air can be removed, but after a moment's hesitation, he seems to remember who is running this show. Soundlessly, he stops holding the belts of hardened Air around the Red and allows the flows to dissipate into the ether. He then repurposes that minimal energy back into increasing his shield on her.

As her bindings disappear Aalaryn smooths her skirts before gently rubbing her arms where the restraints were. Now that she can move easier she sits up straighter, her hands folded in her lap. "Thank you." She listens to Telir, giving him her full attention as he speaks. "I see," the Arafellin woman exhales softly, "that may well place a damper on things. Am I to be executed in the morning?" Her tone is inquisitive, not accusatory, in fact it may even show that she was not completely informed of certain agreements. [Aalaryn]

Telir allows the corners of his lips to twitch towards a smile at the woman's thanks, though it is obviously affected, stopping well short of his reflective gaze. His fingers unlace, his hands spreading out to the sides at the mention of an execution, "I do not wish to be hasty, but your taking hold of your life is not simply means of taking your life." The young man's right leg swings down from its perch upon his left, his hard boot grinding down into the packed earth, "We are rather imaginative and you can have far better uses than death." The Dedicated's hands fall to his knees as he pushes himself up from his make-shift stool, though his dark-eyed gaze never once leaves the woman seated upon the stool across from him. His hands lift slightly, once more slipping into the voluminous pockets of his coat, his head bowed slightly so that his gaze can remain leveled upon the woman, "I am afraid ignorance of the situation is no excuse. You must serve as an example."

Now that sounds a little more like what Tiernan had been waiting to hear. From behind Aalaryn, still mainly swallowed by shadow, the Rahien stops leaning back against the wall and stands upright precisely as Telir does, crossing his arms over his chest. Though nothing about his lifeless expression or flat, cold green eyes changes as he stares ice at the back of her head, the effect of both black-coated male channelers suddenly looming both before and behind her should not be an easy thing to brush off. 

Aalaryn resists the urge to stand, relying upon her own training to remain calm even in events such as these. Instead she sets her jaw and schools her expression, exhaling slowly. The Red watches Telir closely, uncertain of what it is he will do. She does not see Tiernan move behind her however she hears him and turns her head to see. She is surrounded and at a severe disadvantage. Even with Aes Sedai training fear can be heard in her words, "And what is it that you mean to do with me?" 

The shifting of the Dedicated behind the seated Aes Sedai does not break Telir's scrutiny of the woman, those cold brown eyes remaining fixed, "That is something that we will be discussing shortly." A similar thick, ropey flow of earth once again forms, this time, however, it is not to raise a seat, but instead to lower the one that he had previously created. The dirt and rock grates back down, lowering slowly, yet implacably as the young Andoran queries, "First, however, I would like to ask you what it is you hoped to gain by coming here today?" At this, his dark eyes do leave the woman's face, turning towards Tiernan, his right hand escaping from the pocket of his coat. He lifts the hand, holding only his forefinger aloft as if asking the other Dedicated to wait for a moment. The exchange, at least on Telir's part, takes only a moment, his attention returning to focus completely on Aalaryn once more, "I would hate to seem unreasonable after all." 

Tiernan takes a small step back at Telir's gesture, but does not return to his more casual pose of leaning back against the wall, and of course his containment of the Red's ability to reach the One Power remains as firm as ever. Arms still crossed over his chest and feet out at shoulder width, he appears just as comfortable as he was reclined.

Aalaryn's hands separate in her lap, forming two small fists - a sign of trying to comfort herself as she's clearly out gunned here. If the circumstances were different she may have taken some comfort from Telir's words about not wating to seem 'unreasonable'. Her eyes widen even as she works to keep her composure, instinctively she reaches for saidar but is denied. "I told you, Master Telir, I came to learn about your Order and, if the Light willed it, for some kind of repairations to be made. I do not wish to be your enemy."

Telir takes a slow step forward, placing him closer to the woman, perhaps closer than would be considered wise all things considered. Before the rustling of his long coat against the ankles of his hard, black boots has even settled, the young Dedicated bends his knees. The Andoran Aethan lowers himself into a squatting position before the Aes Sedai, his boots spread slightly apart, his right arm bending to lay across the tops of his bent knees. His head tilts slightly off to the side, turning up as to keep the woman fully in his sight, "Well, my dear, I can arrange for you to learn of us, but I do not think you will enjoy yourself." His cold, dark eyes flick past the woman, up towards Tiernan's form behind her, his brows lifting faintly onto his forehead. His attention returns to the woman after a moment, allowing the span of a few heartbeats before he continues, "You will remain shielded at all times while you remain within the Farm." As he makes his first point, the forefinger of his right hand extends, marking it down visually.

The next finger extends slowly as he begins to make his second point, "You obey all commands given to you without question, or hesitation." His third finger begins to extend, his compassionless voice sounding no more concerned than making a list of things to buy at the market, "You do nothing that could be even slightly conceived of as aggressive, or subversive." His head bows for a moment, those cold, dark eyes peering up at the Aes Sedai through the twin tendrils of hair before his face, "Now, refusal will force us to send you to the Lord Dragon in a chest wearing nothing but a pretty red bow." 

Tiernan gives a singular reaction to the Aethan's conditions. Remaining silent, the Rahien takes a smooth, gliding step forward, placing him just close enough to Aalaryn's back that the buttons of his long black coat brush ever so faintly against her. Once there, looking cold fire down atop the woman's head, he very gently, almost tenderly, moves his hands up to light them on her shoulders. Fingers spread wide to lay them against her collarbone one at a time, the Kandori does not press down or squeeze in; were this any other time and any other place, this relatively benign - but undeniably intimate - gesture might be considered sweet.

The ability to channel is not what makes Aalaryn an Aes Sedai. Granted the idea of being shielded from the source does not amuse her at all, in fact she hates it. She listens to the tall Andoran's words as he verbally and physically ticks off the measures and rules of her stay, the Red's attention fully upon the man in front of her. "Very well," she truly has no choice but to agree unless she wants to be trussed up like a feast-day goose. She opens her mouth to speak again but snaps it shut, thinking better of it. She visibly stiffens as Tiernan's hands rest against her shoulders and collarbone. If it is the intention to keep her off guard, the duo are doing quite well. 

Telir clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his unflinching gaze still remaining settled upon the woman as she agrees to the demands. The three extended fingers slowly begin to fall, his emotionless voice sounding out without giving any apparent notice to Tiernan's intimate touching of the Red, "I am afraid I will need to hear you say the words, my dear." The young man continues to squat down before the Aes Sedai, his expression as calm as the most tranquil of lakes, "We are all well aware of an Aes Sedai's penchant for worming around her oaths." With those words spoken, the man finally does stand, allowing himself to stretch up to his full height. His head bows down as he rises, always keeping the woman firmly fixed with his gaze, "I would hate for there to be any misunderstandings, since we are harsh and absolute in our dealings with Dark Friends."

When Aalaryn shifts beneath his gentle touch, Tiernan presses down with all ten fingers just enough to tell her that he felt her uncomfortable stiffening. The pressure lasts but a moment, though, and he goes right back to simply resting his hands delicately over her shoulders. He stays where he is as Telir insists that the Red repeat back the conditions he is setting her in order for her to continue to enjoy the warm hospitality she has been granted thus far.

Aalaryn draws in a breath and slowly exhales in attempt to calm her nerves and keep her voice steady. She knows the condition of her soul and she does not fear swearing. Her heart races, her pulse easily felt by Tiernan's hands. "I understand the rules of my stay. I am to remain shielded, at all times, while I remain within the Farm. I am to obey any and all commands given to me without question or hesitation. I am also to do nothing that could even be slightly concieved of as agressive or subversive." She looks up at Telir, "I understand that if I do not agree with these rules that I'll be sent to the Lord Dragon, in a chest, wearing nothing but a pretty red bow." 

After speaking she again exhales slowly. Repeating the rules isn't what is unsettling Aalaryn, it's the knowing that she will be defenseless and at the whim of another person. It is a hard road to walk that she is setting upon, however she hopes that when it is done the two groups, Aes Sedai and Asha'man, can perhaps consider each other as allies. 

Telir forces himself from the raging turbulence, the raging frozen inferno of Saidin, the aura of menace fading away, drifting off on the wind into nothing. He allows himself an escape from the Void, those dark eyes softening visibly as he continues to look down towards the woman they have seated between them. When he speaks there is a touch of gentleness in his voice, the warmth of life of a human finally finding a place within his tall, slender form, "Then our agreement is settled." The young Andoran extends his free, right hand towards the Aes Sedai, offering it to her as if he intends to help her from her stool. When he again speaks, it is not towards the Red that he directs his question to, instead he looks towards the still emotionless man who holds her shield in place, "And Tiernan, what do you think a proper punishment should be for coming to us uninvited?"

Tiernan - unlike his Aethan colleague - does not release his firm grip on the crashing rapids of Saidin and when he responds, after a moment of apparent consideration, it is with a voice flattened by the weight of pure nothingness. There is neither affection nor malice, threat nor promise in the Kandori's words. Given as simple fact, he answers Telir coolly, "She courted death like a whore courts gold, heedless of the consequences. You spared her those consequences, but I think she should know just how close she came. I imagine we have a fair few extra coffins. It would be rude to make her sleep on the ground, so one of those can serve as her bed."

Aalaryn's eyes widen, "A coffin..?" She would attempt to stand up in protest if Teirnan's hands weren't still on her. "You truly needn't.." her voice wavers a bit, she's too scared to really concentrate on keeping her cool right now. Maybe she should have paid attention to her test when she was taking it back when she was raised to being an accepted.

The sight of the woman's eyes widening and the waiver in her voice are not lost on the young Dedicated standing before her, seeing as her reaction to the suggestion brings a small nod of Telir's head, "That sounds perfect." His head tilts down, those dark eyes once more turned towards the woman who remains seated upon the stool, his hand falling down by his side once more, only to find its way into the pocket of his coat, "I do believe that settles business for today. I will post pairs of Aethan to guard the building." The young Andoran Lord turns on the heels of his boots, his long, black coat flaring out behind him. He takes his first step away from Aalaryn before his coat even manages to finish falling, but he hesitates, stopping before he can take his second step. His head turns, his chin angling slightly towards his shoulder as he looks back towards the seated woman, "If you dare attempt to willfully 'misunderstand' our little agreement..." His dark eyes harden once more, but this time it has nothing to do with the calm emptiness of the Void, the cool, icy chill of his words remains his very own, "I will personally still you, lead you through the Farm wearing nothing but your skin, and cut your thread in the pattern." The young man then continues his slow, casual stroll towards the heavy door of the small box of a room. His right hand escapes the pocket of his coat in order to pull the heavy wooden door to the room open. As he begins to step through he speaks once more, "I will, however, make sure to send your corpse back to your Sisters." 

Remaining stationed behind the Aes Sedai, hands still lightly resting on her shoulders, Tiernan's index fingers near her throat can feel the Red's accelerated heart rate. He impassively listens to Telir's first truly overt threat and lifts his eyes from the honeyed locks to watch the Aethan leave. As soon as the man's foot crosses the threshold, the Rahien spends a few moments securing his shield with an intricate bird's nest of a knot, tying it off with a tight and complex flourish. That done, he finally relinquishes his hold on Saidin, banishing the tumultuous maelstrom from his mind and body, then slips out of the Void. Life returning to his face and voice for the first time since Aalaryn approached the Black Tower, he gives her shoulders a gentle squeeze and says softly - his voice much more pleasant and genial now that he can actually speak like a human being again - "Are you frightened, Aes Sedai?" His tone indicates he is truly concerned for her mental state. 

Aalaryn swallows hard. Everything about Telir - his words, his actions - tells her that he will do it. She lifts her left hand to her lips, covering her mouth. Tiernan's voice draws her attention and gives her a moment to work at grasping her composure again. "Yes.." her voice is a whisper, "I am terrified." She doesn't speak further, she instead looks down at her hands.

Tiernan nods enough that she will be able to feel the slight rocking motion it causes in the way his hands shift their balance subtly against her shoulders. He trails his fingertips slowly off her shoulders and walks around to stand before her, then replaces one hand on her right shoulder. His other hand comes up, too, but instead of using it to tenderly hold her in place, he crooks his index finger and touches the bottom of her chin, softly encouraging her to look up at him from her place on the stool. When she does, that same finger then trails a gentle line down her cheek, his touch tender and his green eyes full of life and compassion. After a moment of just looking down at her, the Dedicated's compassion melts away like ice on a stovetop. Though not the cold blankness of the Void, his expression becomes hard and unrelenting, though as he speaks, his voice somehow retains its smoothness, its amiability. "Good." 

Then he, too, is moving toward the door. He continues speaking even when he reaches it, his back to the Aes Sedai, and his voice genial. "Your 'bed' will be brought to you. You will stay in this room until such time as you are retrieved. You will sleep in the casket you are provided. You will not try to reach the One Power. Rest assured you will be fed and watered. If you disregard any of the commands you are given, even in spirit, you will face Telir's less-than-tender mercies." He looks over his shoulder with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "But for what it's worth, you'd look better in a big red bow." With that, he slides out the door, drawing it shut behind him to leave the Red to ponder her situation in peace. 

Aalaryn allows her chin to be lifted up, thankful for what little compassion shown to her. When Teirnan's demeanor turns to ice the Red looks away to the walls. She waits until she hears the door closed and bootfalls moving away before she lets even a single tear run down her face.


	2. The First Night on the Farm

Once the Asha'man have left and the locking of the door resonates within the small dark cell she's been confined to her tears run. Not only is the cell tiny but she has been provided a coffin in which she's meant to sleep. Ever since her Test for Acceptance she has been claustrophobic. 

There's not a window, she can't open the door, and the coffin - "They can't expect me to truly sleep," she thinks to herself. She knows she can't sleep anyplace else, her oaths they made her swear to them will keep her obedient, as well as her own oaths from the White Tower. She will not sleep, she will stay awake. 

The Red begins to pace the small perimeter of the room going over histories and lessons she particularly liked learning back when she was actually within the Shining Walls and these things help to keep her mind occupied for some time. Eventually, her mind moves back to the Asha'man and the situation at hand, "I came here peacefully, wanting only to learn and to make things right," she's taken to whispering to herself as she paces, the silk of her skirts gathering dirt as she paces, the crimson looking more like old blood along the hemline, "I can only imagine if all of the Red Ajah had arrived, or how different it may have been if I had arrived after the," she pauses for a moment looking for the words as to describe the situation she interrupted, "testing."

She continues to pace, actively fighting sleep until the morning when once again she will have visitors.


	3. Aalaryn and the Lord Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very next morning, after a night of pacing to stay awake, she meets the Lord Dragon

Outside the gates of the Black Tower, a gateway forms, a silvery-blue line appearing, and then snapping into a gateway. A young man steps through it, his dark red hair unmistakable, his blue-gray eyes cold within the Void. As the gateway closes behind him, Rand strides toward the gates purposefully. At least he didn't open it in the middle of the practice yard this time. The aura of menace around him is palpable to the male channelers. The Lord Dragon is clothed in black, save for the embroidery on his sleeves, and the glimpse of a white silk shirt beneath his black coat. His boots slosh through mud from a recent rain, his steps purposeful, his expression grim.

The sensation of such a large amount of Saidin in the general vicinity of the front gate, where Telir just so happens to be at the moment, turns the young man's head. Within his features not a hint of curiosity can be found, though reflective dark brown eyes do hunt down the man who has appeared through the silvery doorway of the One Power. The palpable aura of menace that accompanies all men who hold the freezing fire of Saidin would be felt from the young Dedicated, if one were close enough to him for such things. He draws a long breath as he turns towards the tall, red-haired Lord Dragon, his long black flaring out slightly behind him. The silver sword of Dedicated and silver shield of Aethan glint from off the young man's collar as he begins his brisk walk towards the Dragon, his coat rustling about his ankles. The sense of menace has vanished before he approaches the taller ex-farmboy, emotion flooding back into his features before he halts suddenly a few paces away from Rand. Telir's boot heels click together audibly as his right hand rises, balled into a fist, to thump softly against his chest, over his heart. The young man's head bows towards the ultimate leader of the Asha'man, "Lord Dragon."

Still holding on to the torrent of Saidin coursing through him, Rand continues to stride toward the gates, his jaw set firmly with a resolute expression, cold eyes scanning the area with a sort of flat scrutiny. As on his previous visit, that sense of menace remains strongly wrapped about him, Saidin not leaving his grasp for a moment, as if he is reluctant to loose his hold on Saidin. As Telir moves to meet him and gives his salute, Rand finally slows his steps and comes to a halt, nodding to the Dedicated almost imperceptibly. "Dedicated," he says, his voice quiet, devoid of emotion. "I am here to see the woman." He doesn't even acknowledge her as an Aes Sedai, and speaks the words as if he were asking to see a strange creature on display at a circus, though like a man who is skeptical of what he will find, and whether or not it will match up with what he expects. There is no doubt about which woman he is speaking of.

Telir does not raise his bowed head, nor allow his right hand to fall until Rand has acknowledged his presence, though his head ducks into a single quick nod as the Dragon states his intention. The Dedicated turns, taking the remaining steps between the approaching storm and the gate that leads into the Farm. The young man's right hand lifts, his palm placed flat against the black metal gate, pushing them open so that the tall, red-haired man may pass through them without troubling himself, "I will lead you to her, Lord Dragon." Though he does not bow, per se, his head does incline showing his deference. 

Rand steps through the gates as they are opened, and nods to Telir, Saidin still firmly within his grasp. While he seems determined and purposeful, there is still a sense of weariness lingering about him, in spite of the Void. He falls into step beside the Dedicated, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the red and gold dragon head on the back of his hand gleaming in the light of the day. "Any sign of Taim, yet?" he asks the Dedicated as he allows the other man to lead him to where the Red Sister is being held. His cold gaze sweeps over the grounds of the Black Tower, as if he could see through the buildings, searching for the man. This is the third day he has asked after the M'Hael.

Telir closes the gate quickly once the Lord Dragon has passed through, his strides made longer than usual to catch back up with the taller man, until he falls into step beside him. The young Dedicated's right hand lifts slightly, though only to fall once more into the voluminous pocket of his long black coat. At the sound of Rand's voice, Telir's head turns, his dark eyes tilting up slightly to watch the man's face, despite the fact that he will get nothing out of it. His head shakes slowly, the twin tendrils of hair swaying back and forth in his gaze, "I am afraid not, Lord Dragon. I have not seen the M'Hael recently." His head turns, once more looking ahead and towards a small building set just away from the other main buildings of the Farm. Telir's head inclines, gesturing towards the windowless building as his steps shifting him off in that direction, "She is being held there." Once the pair draw a closer, the forms of two black-coated men can be seen standing outside the door, their arms crossed over their chests. Both wears the small silver shield of Aethan, yet only one has a second pin on his collar, the silver sword of Dedicated.

Rand merely grunts in acknowledgement of Telir's statement regarding Taim's absence. He says nothing more on the matter, his emotions unreadable, features impassive as he remains wrapped within the Void. When Telir leads the way to the windowless building, Rand studies it for a time, and if he has questions, he doesn't voice them to the Dedicated. He nods to the two black-coated men on duty, and then waits to allow one of the other men to open the door. In spite of the fact that he'd been informed the woman was shielded, the Dragon draws on even more of the One Power anyway, the sense of menace around him growing and growing until it might be uncomfortable to be anywhere near him. The Pattern itself might recoil at the strength of Saidin flowing through him. "Open it," he says, through gritted teeth, his gray eyes hard as they fix on the door. 

Telir inclines his head towards the pair of men standing guard to either side of the heavy wooden door that closes off the small building. Emotions fade from the young man's face as he takes a step forward, placing him in front of the Lord Dragon. The young Dedicated plunges himself into the freezing fire and molten ice that is the male half of the One Power, his own aura of menace suddenly enveloping him, though he draws only lightly upon the Source. A flow of air, little larger than the size of two fingers together presses against the thick wooden door, causing it creak on its hinges as it swings inward. The young man takes the first step into the room, his hard boots crunching softly against the packed earth that makes up the floor. Thin flows of air and fire twine around each other, encompassed within an orb of spirit. A sudden spark within the small orb creates a floating light about the size of a child's toy ball. The orb floats an arm length away from the young man, casting shadowy illumination into the corners of the room. The young man's flat, baritone voice sounds out as he turns, his back facing towards a wall, "Rise, Aes Sedai." His head turns slightly, looking with flat, almost reflective dark brown eyes towards the Lord Dragon, "She is here."

It had been a very long and trying night for Aalaryn. She kept it together when they brought in the coffin, but just barely. As the night carried on the more restless she became; the combination of the small windowless room and the coffin enough to drive her into the corner. As the door is opened the Red starts, blinking several times as light is once again introduced into the dark room, shakily she draws herself up to standing. 

As Telir enters the room and spins his orb of light, Rand draws on delicate threads of fire and air, spinning them into a glowing sphere of his own, which he allows to hover just over his shoulder, providing extra illumination for himself. The added light might make it difficult for Aalaryn to see, having been kept in darkness for the night, and with it hovering so close to his face, it might make it hard to look directly at him. Once Telir has gotten the Aes Sedai to her feet, he murmurs to the Dedicated, "Stay close." He steps into the small windowless room then, his light following him. He pauses just past the threshold, and lets his eyes take the Aes Sedai in, features impassive and gray eyes cold as a winter morning sky. He merely studies her for a time, before letting his eyes roam over the little room. He takes notice of the coffin, but his expression never changes as he lets his gaze flick to Telir momentarily, before finally turning his attention back to the Aes Sedai. "I trust you slept well, Aes Sedai?" he inquires, his voice flat and emotionless. 

Telir inclines his head briefly towards Rand as he ordered to stay, the twin tendrils of hair bobbing slightly before his emotionless features. His voice remains lifeless as he takes a single step forward, his hard boots crunching softly against the dirt of the floor, "Yes, Lord Dragon." The young man's brows lift faintly onto his forehead as his dark, reflective brown eyes turn towards the Red Sister, though not hint of curiosity can be found, the movement simply an affectation. 

Aalaryn lifts her hand to shield her eyes, the light is blinding causing her to blink repeatedly. Two voices, one somewhat familiar but one is new, reach her ears, "No.." the Arafellin shakes her head slightly, "I have not slept." With the hand not shielding her eyes she attempts to smooth her skirts and hair so that she is at least presentable.

The red-haired young man standing in the doorway with his brilliant sphere of light studies the woman with narrowed eyes as she responds. "Pity," he says coldly. "I should think you would have found it considerably more comfortable than a locked trunk, and being beaten within an inch of your life every day," he adds flatly, stepping further into the room. His glowing ball of light moves through the air, and he attaches it to one of the walls and knots it off there, so that he doesn't have to concern himself with it any longer. "Do you know who I am?" he asks menacingly, stepping closer to the woman, towering over her as he gazes down at her. With the light not so close to his face, she might be able to see him better now. The dark red hair, the cold blue-gray eyes, the fine black coat with its golden dragons embroidered on the sleeves. The red and gold dragon heads glittering on the backs of his hands, one of which comes to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Telir remains standing behind an off to the side of the Lord Dragon, his hands resting comfortably within the confines of the voluminous pockets of his long black coat, shadows playing down his form from the soft illumination of his own orb of light. His impassive gaze remains centered on the richly-clad Red, though he does not bother to interrupt. His feet are spread almost a shoulders width apart, his knees slightly bent to give him an easy stance to hold for however long this might take.

Aalaryn would step back if she truly could, but she's got no where to go. The light being placed upon the wall as a sconce does help, she can finally focus upon the tall red-haired man before her. The Red takes a moment before answering, perhaps to bring whatever calm she can muster to herself at this time. "No, though I did hear someone call you, Lord Dragon just now." She lowers her hand that she was using to shield her eyes to her side, slowly she does not want to make any threatening moves.

Rand nods slightly, and lifts a hand to run it through his red hair in an unconscious gesture. "They tell me," he says, letting his hand fall to his side again as he finally speaks again, "that you interrupted a rather important event when you were discovered snooping around. What are you doing here, and what do you want?" he asks bluntly, turning back to her. "And none of your slippery Aes Sedai talk. I want straight answers, and immediate answers. It's obvious to me that you don't realize that your very life is in danger, so let me make it plan for you: if you displease me in any of your answers, you will find yourself stilled and shipped back to Tar Valon at the very least. In a locked trunk, if I have my way." His gray eyes fix on her coldly, the Void giving him a sense of unsettling, cold detachment.

Telir takes a long breath as he takes a single step forward, his dark eyes never leaving the Red, "I would answer his questions, my dear." His head turns slightly, those dark brown eyes turning to Rand before flicking back towards Aalaryn, "I sense our Lord Dragon is in no mood for games." A faint grin touches the left corner of the young Dedicated's lips, the soft glow from his orb glinting off the silver sword and shield pins attached to his collar, "And I would hate for you to break our little agreement." The small grin that has crept onto his lips holds no warmth, only the chill that can be found floating in the emotionless embrace of the Void.

Aalaryn draws in a quick breath, the idea of being stilled does not sound appeasing to her, neither does the trunk for that matter. "I am aware that I interupted something of great importance, I am truly sorry for that as it as not my intention," the Red is not mincing words, "I came to learn of your Order, to hopefully make ammends for past transgressions. I do not wish to be anyone's enemy."

Rand lifts his hand from the hilt of his sword, and folds his arms in front of him as he studies the Aes Sedai, looking for any sign of deception in her words. His gray eyes bore into her as she speaks, and when she finishes, he seems to mull it over for a time. "So you thought it wise to simply march in here and start demanding answers?" he says, a trickle of scorn leaking through the deadpan tone of his voice. "Now that you are here, we cannot let you leave. This location is a closely-guarded secret. So there is only one thing you can do to save your life." He states, his gaze never leaving hers. "If you truly do not wish to be anyone's enemy, will swear fealty to me. You will swear to obey, and that you will commit no aggression against me, or the Asha'man. From this point on, my goals will be your goals. You will swear this, and hold true to it as you hold to the Three Oaths. If you are not Black Ajah," he adds coldly, not flinching from the word as any Aes Sedai might. "In which case, I have very little reason to trust you at all, or your word." His dilemma is becoming more apparent, and his lack of trust in any Aes Sedai is obvious.

Telir casts the Lord Dragon a sidelong glance as he pretty much truncates the exact order of operations that Tiernan and himself went through with the woman only the day before. He does not voice whatever opinion he might have, however, something about discretion being the better part of valor. The young Dedicated draws a long breath, his chest expanding slowly only to be released after the beat of a heart. His impassive gaze returns to the woman, his head tilting faintly off to the side as he continues to study her and the movements that she makes.

Arafellins have a strange sense of honor, this is pretty well known. Even though Aalaryn has just managed to stand up she drops to her knees on the dirt floor. "I swear to you," she speaks as she lifts her gaze to meet Rand's, the gesutre is out of respect not defiance, "I will commit no agression against you, or the Asha'man. I wish to help, and I will do so, your goals are my goals as well, Lord Dragon. Please, accept my vow of fealty." Her words spoken she remains there, on her knees, in silence.

If Rand is taken aback at how easily the Red Sister swears to him, he doesn't show it, his features remaining impassive within the void. His eyes merely follow her movements as she drops to her knees and utters the words. He seems coldly thoughtful for a time, and states, "You forgot to swear to obey me," he observes flatly. "That is part of the oath I require. If you will not swear to this as well, then I have no use for you," he says dismissively, glancing at Telir in what might be a signal for the Dedicated to be ready for something.

"I swear to obey you, Lord Dragon. I truly wish to make ammends," The Red had to take a moment to compose herself, she's still considerably scared. "There is a delegation of Red Ajah somewhere in Caemlyn, I do not know if they have made contact with your Asha'man as of yet, however. I do know that they plan to 'demand' answers." 

The Dedicated gives as little reaction to the the Red kneeling as Rand, opting instead to remain passively watching the proceedings. His head turns slightly, catching the Lord Dragon's glance. He does not give any verbal conformation, instead giving a single small nod that scarcely causes the twin locks of hair before his face to move. His lips twist slightly at the mention of a Red delegation in Caemlyn, the movement is quickly smoothed away, drifting away into nothingness as soon as it appeared. 

When Aalaryn speaks the words he had been hoping for, Rand finally allows himself to relax, perhaps just a little. After all, she is merely one shielded women, and he is the Dragon Reborn. But he tenses again at the news she has just given him, and he glances at Telir again with a slight frown. The expression on his face is still merely perfunctory and devoid of true emotion, merely an unconscious reaction to the news. Finally, he turns his attention back to the kneeling Red, and gestures with a hand for her to rise. "I have received a report regarding this delegation," he states flatly through the emptiness of the Void. "I have little trust for Red Sisters," he states evenly. "If they wish to speak with us, they will have to earn the right. You," he says, turning the topic smoothly back to the matter of the Aes Sedai immediately before him, "will remain here. I am going to release your shield, but you will not channel without permission. We can sense when a woman channels, so we will know," he adds flatly. "I will leave it up to my Asha'man to decide what to do if you disobey me in this. Also," he addds, glancing at the coffin, "I think this is a fitting bed for you for now. A reminder of what will happen if you prove to be a darkfriend, and break your word. The word of an Aes Sedai is supposed to be as good as her Oaths. If you break it... I will know who you really serve, and this will be the means by which you return to the White Tower," he says, gesturing to the coffin. "It will not need a lock," he adds coldly. 

Telir's head turns slightly, his dark eyes once more on the Lord Dragon. His right hand escapes the confines of the pocket of his coat, lifting with wide-spread fingers to rake through his dark hair. As his hand falls it balls into a loose fist, hovering just before his mouth as he allows a small cough to escape as if clearing his throat. He allows a moment to pass, giving Rand time to say what he needs to say, before he allows his own flat voice to sound in the room, "Not to interfere, Lord Dragon." The worry that might accompany someone speaking to what is easily the most powerful individual in the world does not touch the Dedicated, though perhaps he would not be so forward if it were not for the embrace of the Void, "In our..." the young man's eyes flicker towards the kneeling woman, his left brow arching faintly onto his forehead, "interview yesterday, we extracted oaths from the woman." His hand falls once more, slipping into the comforting confines of his voluminous pocket, "That she would obey all commands without hesitation, or question and would take no aggressive nor subversive actions." His head turns once more, centered the full weight of his piercing brown eyes upon the woman, that single brow still cocked onto his forehead, "If she were to break one of these oaths I have given her my word that I will personally hunt her down, severe her, drag her through the Farm in nothing but her skin before killing her." Though his head does not turn this time, his dark eyes return to the taller male channeler, "I hope you find this appropriate as I would be sending her corpse dressed with a lovely red bow to her Sisters." 

The bloody coffin. She -hates- that thing. "I understand, Lord Dragon." Slowly Aalaryn rises to her feet, neglecting to brush away the dirt and dust from her dress. As Telir shares his promise with Rand the Red draws her hair over one shoulder in attempt to smooth it though it's mainly a distractionary thing for her to keep her calm. 

As Telir speaks up, Rand turns his attention to the Dedicated, and smiles grimly through the nothingness of the Void at his description. "Well now she has sworn them to me personally," he states, his voice flat in spite of the grim smile. He pauses for a moment, and seems to look inward for a time as he listens to the rest. "Then we are of an accord. I have no use for darkfriends. At least, until I can find a way to turn them back from the Shadow," he adds, eyeing Aalaryn. "You can send her back in that coffin, just as I've said, if she breaks one oath." 

He turns toward Aalaryn fully then, and still holding Saidin, he studies the shield that has been placed on her, including the knot that was tied. He nods to himself slightly, and then he spins gleaming threads of spirit into a razor, flattened to a sharp edge. It slices through the cunningly-tied knot, causing the weave of spirit separating her from the True Source to dissipate like so much mist. Aalaryn would be able to feel her access to Saidar restored. Then the little ball of light he had created vanishes as well, leaving only Telir's glowing orb to light the room. "See that she has some comforts," he tells Telir, glancing at him. "A bath, fresh clothing, food and drink. I don't want her mistreated. But I know you will do what needs to be done." 

Aalaryn breathes a sigh of relief, the shield is gone and she can feel the connection again to saidar. For the first time since her arrival she seems to relax visibly, even if it is a bit. It is like he gave her back her security blanket.

Telir inclines his head as Rand responds, "Of course, Lord Dragon. I was merely taking precautions." The young man takes a single step back, his long coat rustling against the ankles of his hard black boots. His features fall into the bland nothing of the Void once more, those reflective, dark eyes centered on the woman. He allows his floating orb of light to remain, giving them all at least something to use to see the room. He draws a long breath before the last order is given, his head turning to regard the tall man before he gives another single nod, "As you say. I will see to it."

Rand nods briskly to Telir. "I'll be in Cairhien if you need me, putting my school in order," he adds. "I expect to hear something about Tear soon." Then he glances at Aalaryn one last time before he turns sharply, and makes his way out of the small building. He heads through the gates of the Black Tower, and the men of the Black Tower will feel a strong channeling as he weaves another gateway. He steps through it, and is gone.

Telir drops saidin as he leaves.


	4. Aalaryn meets Anne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telir goes to the Farm and finds a woman willing to work with the Aes Sedai, to bring her food, clothing, and the amenities for a bath.
> 
> Anne is Aalaryn's first kind soul she meets while with the Asha'man.

It had only been an hour or so since the Lord Dragon and his Asha'man had left the Red alone in her little cell. Sitting down upon the top of the coffin, Aalaryn sighs and looks into her hands as if they held the answers to her questions. The gravity of the events still spin about her mind as the door opens yet again to reveal a Dedicated and a woman carrying a basket. 

"Hello," Anne begins, her arms filled with a basket filled with neatly folded clothing, "I am Anne Gensa, I'm here to help you get a bath?" The woman who comes to the Aes Sedai is dressed in quite simple and functional clothing suitable for life on the farm, no frippery or fancy silks for her. She shifts her stance, resting the small basket in which the clothing rests in against her hip. "Instead of having a bucket of water brought here I have offered my home so that you can bathe in privacy."

The Dedicated doesn't seem exactly thrilled by this statement but he knows where he can stand guard and still give the honey haired Aes Sedai privacy to bathe.

Rising to her feet Aalaryn offers a smile to Anne, "Thank you, that is very kind." The woman seems to be genuine, her stance and expression show no signs of harboring the Red any ill will as far a she can tell. "Am I to follow you?"

Anne nods in response, "Yes, it's not terribly far." She takes special note of the finery that the Aes Sedai is in and already one can see that she's trying to discern how silk is laundered. "I'm afraid that the attire I have for you might not be as fine as you are accustomed to but they should fit with a bit of alterations." The farmwife leads Aalaryn across the spanse of fields until they reach her house. She opens the door and walks in waiting inside for the Aes Sedai.

Aalaryn looks to the Dedicated hesitantly before following Anne inside. She wonders if the man is Anne's husband or if he drew the short straw so he is stuck on duty guarding her. "I know how to sew, I can, if permitted, make alterations to them." Taking a moment to glance around the room before she moves to follow Anne, "My name is Aalaryn," she should at least introduce herself, after all she is being shown a great deal of hospitality by a complete stranger. She follows Anne back to the room in which a large wooden tub has been fashioned. 

The Dedicated steps in front of both women and within moments fresh water begins to fill the tub, he is using Saidin, and steam begins to rise. Aalaryn watches in awe, experiencing what it must be like for those who cannot channel to experience the strange goings-on when the power is used. "Thank you," Anne looks to the Dedicated, "I am certain that I am safe, you may go." Anne gestures to the door and then turns to help the Aes Sedai. The Dedicated is quite happy to be away from the Red Sister though he finds a place outside of the bathing area to stand, just in case.

"Do you need help?" Anne has begun to go through the basket, looking for items that would be the best fit and will last the longest.

"No, I can manage, thank you," and soon the Red is working and undoing her dress. Even when in her small clothes she still maintains her composure as she folds up her finery. Eventually she slips out of her small clothes and into the water, the warmth of the water bringing new life to her tired body. As the honey haired woman bathes, she and Anne begin to talk. At first it is awkward and very formal but eventually the conversation turns warmer as the water cools.


	5. Aalaryn meets Kiziel and Tiernan is still Terrifying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aalaryn was able to take a bath and received new clothing. She has still not slept and has been keeping herself awake by mending and embroidering her clothing.

Tiernan lets his grin slip a little as Kiziel turns the subject back to the Red. Inhaling deeply, he stands upright and jerks his head toward the door. "Alright," he agrees, still with a residual grin on his lips. "I think they'll let me in without any real fuss." He then saunters out the door, one glance behind him to check that the Souvra is accompanying him. Making his way across the Farm and out to the burrough the Aethan call home, Tiernan keeps a generally amiable grin on his face, but his green eyes flatten very slightly as he approaches the two guards on the door behind which their 'guest' has her 'accomodations'.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," he says in greeting. "She being any trouble?" The two Dedicated shake their heads and one says, "Not since the Dragon Reborn came in this morning." With a simple nod, the Rahien says, "Good to know. Asha'man?" he asks as he turns his focus to the ranking member of the channeling army. "Would you care to meet the Red?" His arm gestures broadly at the door, a clear expectation that no one will stop the tall, pale Souvra from entering the little chamber. 

Walking along beside Tiernan, Kiziel is in his full uniform, pins sparkling bright on either side of his collar, with his hand resting on the narrow sword belted at his side. His expression is, perhaps surprisingly, one of curiosity, with a light smile upon his lips. He nods in response to the Rahien's question, striding forward and opening the door to step inside. Once there, he gives the small room a quick glance around to be sure nothing is too out of the ordinary, and then steps to the side to allow his Dedicated companion to join him. 

A bath can do a person wonders. Aalaryn looks much more like a normal person now that her finery is elsewhere. The Red has positioned her stool under the power wrought light and is sitting beneath it. Folded atop the coffin's lid is a second set of clean clothes, not unlike what she is wearing. It appears one of the women at the farm gave her some clothes but also a needle and thread for her to adjust their fit if needed. The Arafellin seems to be working on mending the hem on her secondary skirt. All of this is so much like being a Novice, two dresses, responsible for cleaning and repairing them, no channeling without permission. Irony at its finest. [Aalaryn]

Stepping through the door after Kiziel, Tiernan stops at the threshold and looks seriously at the Aethan guards on either side of the entrance. "Black first, understand?" The two wardens nod, catching the resolute Rahien's meaning. Satisfied, the young Kandori steps into the room and swings the door shut behind him, gaze scanning the little room to take in the changed details. "Asha'man Kiziel Navaran, this is Aalaryn Rouskova." His typically gregarious tone is gone, replaced by formality, and both the other two people in the room will note that the young man remembers the Red's full name, but deliberately leaves off any of her former titles. 

Despite the somewhat grim surroundings, Kiziel's faint smile does not go away - though the look of curiosity surrounding it intensifies a little. The pale skinned man takes in the surroundings with a glance, noticing that the Rahien had not been exaggerating when he described what they gave the Red to sleep in with a nearly imperceptible shake of the head, before allowing his gaze to take in the woman on the stool. He studies her for some time, green eyes taking in several details, before saying simply, "Hello Aalaryn. I'm Kiziel Navaran, of the Souvra Talon."

Aalaryn sets down her sewing as company arrives, the skirt isn't going anywhere. She rises from her seat as she is spoken to. "Well met, Master Navaran." Her hands rest at her sides and she looks from Tiernan back to Kiziel curiously. "Forgive my boldness but, what does Souvra Talon mean?"

Tiernan clenches his jaw tight as Aalaryn leaves off the title he very specifically provided to her, and when her gaze passes toward him, she will see the well-defined set of his jawline quite severely tensed. Despite that irritation, the Rahien lets Kiziel handle his own business, and neglects to correct her. Getting to be the spectator to a second round of questioning, the handsome young Dedicated moves to the same spot at the back of the room where he stood the last time.

One could not ask for a better opening, and the way the smile on Kiziel's lips widens just a little shows it. The Asha'man settles into a slightly wider stance, feet about shoulder width apart as he regards the Red, tone slightly lecturing. "Asha'man are divided into Talons, much as Aes Sedai are into Ajah. The Souvra - that means 'Mind' in the old tongue - are mine. We're... well, we're somewhat like your Brown Ajah, but we have more of a focus on practical knowledge." The Asha'man nods his head towards Tiernan. "I believe Dedicated Laoranth brought me to you in the belief that I could study you, and learn much." 

For the first time she's spoken to like a person and she gets a nasty look. "I see," however her tone remains pleasant, "How should I call you?" After all she doesn't want to be rude. As Kiziel mentions 'studying' her she grows quiet and folds her hands at her waist. 

It is a testament to Tiernan's regard for the tall, pale Asha'man that he manages to crack a sincere, if small, smile as Kiziel begins speaking to the captured Aes Sedai as though she were any other student. The other man's assumption brings a nod of confirmation and the Dedicated leans back against the wall, tucking his hands in his pockets, then lifts his left leg to plant the heel of his boot beside his right knee. Reclining against the rough stone wall, the tension in Tiernan's face begins to relax into a neutral mask - one that is, for him, abnormally devoid of emotion for being outside the Void. 

Shrugging his shoulders gently, Kiziel says simply, "Kiziel will do. Though it's Asha'man Navaran, if you want the formal term. I'm not..." He grins a little ruefully, "I'm not terribly good at formal, I'm afraid." The Asha'man pauses there for a moment, glancing over at Tiernan briefly, noting his blank expression, then looking back to Aalaryn, "Would you mind telling me what orders you're under? I'd like to make use of you, since you're here, and I understand Aes Sedai Oaths are rather binding, so I'd rather not accidentally tell you to do something you can't and have you... I don't know, go mad, or something."

Aalaryn nods in response, "I was to remain shielded at all times while I am here, but the Lord Dragon removed the shield that I had. I am to obey any orders given to me by the Asha'man and the Lord Dragon, without hesitation or question," Yes, very much like being a Novice, "I am not to do nothing that could be even slightly conceived of as aggressive, or subversive or I will be sent back to Tar Valon in nothing but a pretty red bow in a chest, or the coffin. The Lord Dragon said, upon removal of the shield, that I am not to channel without permission. And that his goals are now my goals as well." 

Tiernan seems content to let Kiziel handle this conversation on his own terms, so despite the relatively pleasant banter and the Asha'man's grin, no attempt to sway the tone of the meeting is made. The Dedicated does cock a tiny grin of his own as his superior clarifies the terms of Aalaryn's continued existence. With a loud scrape of boot heel against rough stone, Tiernan's boot slides down the wall it was perched against and lands on the floor with a 'thump' as the Red imparts the new tidbit of information about what the Lord Dragon had her swear to. One eyebrow rises in mild surprise. What he says to Kiziel, though, is stated quietly, with a hint of revelation. "That sounds a lot like the fealty oaths for..." from behind Aalaryn, where she cannot see, he jerks his head to indicate something located in a slightly different place.

Giving Tiernan a quick glance of confirmation, Kiziel returns his gaze to Aalaryn and nods his head quickly. "Excellent. That shouldn't interfere with anything at all that I have planned." The Asha'man pauses there, considering the Red before him for a moment, then turns back to Tiernan and asks, "Do you know if the Aes Sedai is needed for anything specific today?" He chuckles quietly, then notes, "We should have a sign out sheet. Like at a library." 

Aalaryn glances back to see where Tiernan has moved to, after her first meeting with the man she's never quite sure where he's going to end up standing, hopefully not directly behind her. No luck in seeing him as she doesn't want to physically turn about and be rude. As a sign out sheeet is mentioned, be it in jest or reality, she sighs softly. First a prisoner, now she's a book, or a ter'angreal, a thing to be studied and returned.

Tiernan shakes his head in answer, raising his eyebrows in another small smile for Kiziel. The smile turns into a grin and he chuckles silently at the suggestion. As he answers, the young Dedicated's voice regains some of its usual geniality and vigor. "She's all yours, Asha'man. Test away. I don't think anybody but the Lord Dragon himself will gainsay you, and he's already had his turn." Eyes darting to the door, he adds quietly, "Though I would recommend discretion if you're leaving this room with her." He takes two steps forward to come up behind the Sedai, this time just to run the pad of his index finger softly down the side of her neck. "You know how covetous some of them can be."

Nodding his head at Tiernan's words, Kiziel lets out a quiet chuckle, "No, you're probably right." He considers for a moment, tilting his head to the side a little as he thinks, and then stating simply, "I think that what I have in mind for the day can be done in here, but..." He glances towards Aalaryn, asking her quietly, "Have they let you out of here since you've arrived?" The Asha'man's voice sounds genuinely concerned, though he doesn't make any comments at all about the rather intimate way Tiernan is apparently making himself familiar with her - either to gainsay him, or encourage him. 

Aalaryn's lips form into a frown at Tiernan's touch. He's gone from nice to ice too many times and the way he touches her neck is far from appropriate. Kiziel's words bring her attention back from anger. If she can move away from Tiernan, even a few steps, she will. "Yes, one of the women here took me to a bath earlier."

Tiernan lets her move away, his grin pulling tight as though holding back a laugh while his eyes drop to the ground for a second in amusement. He puts his arms behind his back and clasps one hand around the other wrist, standing at a casual parade rest, his coat open to the clean white shirt beneath. Looking back up to Kiziel, his expression isn't proud or wicked - merely amused. "They should have been seeing her fed and watered, as well, Asha'man," he says evenly, informatively.

Nodding his head at Aalaryn's statement, Kiziel's expression is tinged with relief, smile widening a little at the Dedicated's addendum. "Oh, good. Well then..." Giving another quick glance to Tiernan, the Asha'man's face goes blank as he slides into the Void, letting his emotions burn away in an instant. His pale green eyes focus again on the Red, and his voice is suddenly cool and even as he commands, simply, "Embrace Saidar. Not much, just enough to be able to weave. Create a sphere of Light." He gestures with one empty hand towards the power-forged illumination already in the room, "Like that one." His gaze flickers back and forth between his fellow black coat and the Aes Sedai, and even as he commands the Black Tower's guest to grasp, he follows suit, filling his frame with an impressive quantity of Saidin - enough to bring the building down, should he feel the need. [Kiziel]

Oh, channeling? She can do that. "Very well," Aalaryn smiles, she can touch and -use- saidar! The Aes Sedai opens herself to saidar, the golden nimbus surrounding her. She lifts her right hand and gazes at the palm, as she slowly draws her fingers towards her on her right hand she weaves a thread thin flow of fire before adding flows of air and shaping it into a sphere. As she shapes the sphere of light she moves her hands as if she were shining an apple between her hands. "Do you wish for me to tie it off or maintain it?" she asks as she lifts the completed sphere up with a separate flow of air. 

Amusement vanishes in the blink of an eye an instant after Tiernan watches the friendly Asha'man's face drain of its smile, following suit by covering his mind in the protective layer of the Void. When Kiziel invites their 'guest' to embrace, shock lights up the smooth surface of that unassailable fortress, but does not make its way inside. Instead, even before Kiziel does, in direct response to the order given to Aalaryn, Tiernan slams his will into Saidin and pulls his full capacity of its raging force into him. Skin prickling as she follows the simple command, the Kandori weaves out a solid, heavy shield of Spirit made razor thin and only vaguely blunted, holding himself prepared to force his way between the Red and the One Power at the slightest hint of need. 

The gaze Kiziel directs towards Aalaryn as she forms her little sphere of light is one of cool intensity, clearly focused on what she's doing, but just as clearly without affecting his emotional state. When the skin at his arms pricks up suddenly, the Asha'man's brow furrows, but he says nothing. Instead, he shakes his head in response to the Aes Sedai's question and commands. "No, release the flows." He pauses there for a moment to allow her to obey, and then forms flows of his own: Air, in a simple hemisphere before him, hardening into an invisible hemisphere as he asks, "Do you feel anything different?" 

Aalaryn nods in compliance and her flows of air and fire dissapate and the small orb of light disappears. "Only saidar, unless I should release that." She inclines her head quizzically, "Should I feel something, Asha'man Navran?"

Tiernan continues to hold his shield hovering in readiness to disconnect the captured Aes Sedai from Saidar. He is utterly still, barely even seeming to breathe, as he watches her, paying almost no actual attention to the study being conducted by the Souvra. From outside the room, one more pulsing cloud of menace rises as one of the two guards grasps Saidin - potentially to hear what's happening inside the room. Instead of waiting to see if he can hear something, however, the man cracks the door open by an inch and quickly looks inside. To his credit, he is being as silent as he can be so as not to interrupt, but also cautious, what with the feeling of impending destruction eminating around the two blackoats within the room, and the hair-raising sensation of the previously-shielded Red.

Shaking his head slowly, Kiziel gives the Aes Sedaia slow answer. "No, no, I don't... think so..." The Asha'man pauses, then commands, "Make another sphere of light. And then tell me of your purpose in coming to the Black Tower." The pale man nods at Tiernan as the man walks to the door, instructing him this time, "Dedicated, step outside for just a moment if you would." He gives a nod and a glance down to his forearms, where the hairs are only just now starting to settle back down. "Let me know... what you find." [Kiziel]

Aalaryn goes back through her small ritual of weaving her sphere of light - a thread thin flow of fire coupled with flows of air. "I wished to learn," once she has the sphere shaped in her hands she lifts it up with a separate flow of air and maintains all flows until instructed to do differently, "about the Asha'man, how saidin feels when it is used from your point of view." She looks at her own orb of light for a moment, smiling, clearly pleased with her shaping as fire is one of her weakest flows, "I also hoped to make ammends, things have been handled poorly of late and I do not agree with the current 'mission' of the Red Ajah. I much prefer our previous calling."

Tiernan moves to the door slowly, his green eyes leaving the Red only to look at Kiziel blankly. He holds that look for a long moment before actually leaving the room, letting his shield vanish from sight and the flows of Spirit dissipate as he shuts himself outside with the Aethan wardens. Speaking with them quietly, the Rahien briefly explains what is happening inside and checks to make sure no one... undesirable... is taking an interest.

Nodding his head slowly as Kiziel again feels the goosebumps on his arms, the Asha'man commands simply, "Release the flows." And then he pauses, thinking. "How did you intend to find out how Saidin feels from our perspective? And which mission was it you did not agree with?" He stops there, then glances back over his shoulder, asking as he does so, "Oh, and what was your previous calling as an Ajah?" The Asha'man releases his own weave, allowing it to drop but not pushing Saidin from himself, the torrent of ash and fire still flooding his form. 

Aalaryn releases the flows yet again and the orb winks out. She looks to Kiziel, giving him her full attention, "I had hoped to converse with anyone who would be willing to speak with me and share, Asha'man. " Moving her hands before her she folds them at her waist. "The Red Ajah was initially tasked with finding and handling any miuse of the Power, not with finding men with the ability. That only happened after the breaking of the world, I am certain that it was deemed as a 'misuse' but it soon became every Red's passion to hate and distrust men and gentle any man who could touch saidin."

Tiernan stays outside, talking quietly with the Wardens, during this brief exchange. The sense of menace from beyond the door dwindles as the one guard who had grasped Saidin releases it, but Tiernan's firm hold on the chaotic maelstrom remains intact.

Opening the door behind himself, Kiziel gestures for Tiernan to join him once more, apparently having decided that this was sufficient time for whatever purpose he had asked the man to step out for in the first place. He turns then to Aalaryn, nodding slowly. "That's... a far more palatable approach to things for most of the men here, I suspect." He pauses just briefly, and then asks, "What information did you hope to learn about Saidin?" 

"Well," beads of sweat have been forming on the Red's forehead, "I know what saidar feels like to me - warm, safe, sweet - but not what saidin feels like." Aalaryn sways slightly and takes a step back, her hand reaching for the wall. "I'm sorry.." She takes a moment to straighten herself up, her lack of sleep is beginning to take its toll, "I had also heard rumor that the taint is go.." The Red slumps to the ground, her grasp upon saidar is released. The woman has fainted. 

Tiernan does not look back even as the door opens, but apparently either catches Kiziel's beckoning gesture out of the corner of his eye or simply assumes he is welcome back, because he immediately takes one step backwards before turning again and walking forward into the cramped little room. His handsome face is blank and lifeless as ever, green eyes dulled and flattened by the Void, displaying none of the effect of Saidin pumping viciously through his veins. He shuts the door behind himself just in time to see Aalaryn start to fall and, in a potentially surprising gestures, weaves out three thick ropes of Air. Flashing swiftly around her knees, hips, and shoulders, the Rahien swirls the weaves about her form to gently lift, shift, and hold her before she actually crumples to the floor.

Perhaps it is the Void, or perhaps it's what he's observed of the Red since he arrived, but Kiziel does not seem surprised when the woman faints - thus, it is not just Tiernan who weaves Air to catch her. The Asha'man's flows take the shape of a hemisphere behind her, such that even as her body begins to fall and is caught by the Dedicated, she is caught and cradled by an invisible cushion. The pale man glances towards his Rahien companion, and states simply, "I don't think she's slept since she got here. Is the coffin necessary?" He glances around a moment, and then adds, "In fact, is the whole show necessary? I think I've got something that can keep her in line, even if you don't trust her oaths." 

Tiernan clenches his jaw tight as he whips his flows of Air away, letting Kiziel's little bowl support the Red's unconscious form. The sense of radiating danger from around the Rahien winks out as he violently shoves Saidin away and the light in his green eyes returns with the eviction of the Void from around his mind. Running his hands through his hair, the Kandori rubs the back of his head quickly as he sighs out in frustration. "I don't know, Kiziel. The Lord Dragon didn't seem to mind it." Glancing over at the coffin with its spare bundle of clothing resting on top, he takes a seat on the vacated stool and folds his hands together.

"Too much about all of this stinks to me. The other Red, the one I met in Caemlyn? For all we know, this is some elaborate ruse. This one," Tiernan nods his head toward the prone, floating form of the captured Red, "just buckled like she was made of rotten wood." Dropping his gaze to his hands, the Rahien's voice goes quiet. "I can't make myself think about being locked in a trunk for Light knows how long, to be so helpless in the hands of my enemies, without wanting to run screaming like a little girl until I can't run or scream any more." Drawing his introspective gaze back up to the Asha'man, he says, "They did that, and far -far- more. Is any of this any worse?" 

The bowl of Air supporting Aalaryn shifts slightly, tilting backwards and carrying her unconscious form with it until she is curled up parallel to the ground, her body supported in what is likely a surprisingly comfortable position - or would be, if she were in any condition to appreciate it. The Souvra ties the flows off carefully, ensuring they'll last for at least the next day or so unless sliced, and then he likewise pushes Saidin from himself, dropping the Void soon after. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, and gentle. "She wasn't one of the ones who did that. Holding that against her is like..." He searches about for a moment, looking for a suitable comparison. "It'd be like holding the entire Asha'man responsible for the actions of those who went mad. Some might do it. We don't." 

Tiernan starts shaking his head almost immediately after Kiziel begins talking, but he waits for the man to finish before voicing his protest, his words coming out a little breathy in frustration. "You don't know that, Kiziel. You can't possibly know that. Or that she wouldn't have been if she'd been in that situation." His voice, still quiet, becomes firmer. "The difference is that they -aren't- mad. Crazy, sure. But not mad. No one stopped them, no one stepped forward when they stuck the Lord Dragon in a box and nearly forced madness on him." Tone rising from a deep well of anger, he continues. "Half of us had to go well out of our way - and had to slaughter so many people - just to get him out of that bloody box and bring him home. That blood is on all their hands, Kiziel."

Sighing heavily, Tiernan's shoulders slump a little and he looks down at his hands again, calm restored. "So no, maybe she wasn't there. And maybe she would have even protested, though I don't believe that. But she was a part of that machine, a cog that made the whole thing turn." He tilts his head to look up askance at the tall Asha'man. "I don't really think she has anything to tell us that will be useful from the Aethan's perspective. Telir wasn't very impressed by her, at least. She might prove useful to you, and that would be great. But she's not a friend, she's certainly not an ally, and I don't believe for a second that - even if she could be trusted - she would be regarded as anything but a traitor by the White Tower. So you tell me, Asha'man. Is it necessary?" 

Listening calmly to Tiernan's words, Kiziel regards the other man with his pale green gaze, waiting until he has said his piece. And then he smiles, the expression gentle on his features as he states simply, "That's why we're better than them, Tier. Perhaps you're right, and in different circumstances she would've been the first in line to box the Dragon Reborn. Perhaps she would've been in another box, beside him, for kicking up such a fuss. We don't know. But it shouldn't matter. She's given us an Oath of obedience. It makes sense to make use of her - her potential importance as a person aside, the actual benefit of having an obedient Aes Sedai is too real to ignore - but I don't think she needs to be kept in a coffin." The Asha'man considers for a moment, then nods to the door, opening it and stepping outside to begin walking back towards his lab, gesturing for the Rahien to follow him. 

Tiernan pays Kiziel the same respect and listens carefully to the other man's rebuttal, then simply sighs heavily once again, glancing back at the prone form of the Aes Sedai. He pushes himself off the stool by leveraging against his knees, then calmly turns to the door and strides out of the room. "She'll be sleeping a while. Let her," he says coolly to the Aethan on guard as he yanks the door closed behind him. The walk back to Kiziel's lab is a quiet, thoughtful stroll.

The rest of the walk to the practice yard is done in relative silence, as the Asha'man appears to consider something. Once there, though, he says simply, "I think I've got an idea that should be a decent compromise." And then his face blanks as he drops into the Void, smoothly seizing Saidin and filling his form with it, beginning to radiate a cloud of intense menace as he walks towards the constantly heated pool of metal maintained by weaves of Fire in the back of his lab. "She might not like it much, but I suspect she'll deal with it better than she will with being cooped up in a tiny room without light, and told to sleep in a coffin." [Kiziel]

Tiernan strides into the lab behind Kiziel, still thinking quietly, though he does look up at the older man as he begins radiating the sure sign of his mastery over Saidin. Closing the door behind him, the Kandori remains unVoided and unSaidined, watching the Souvra curiously. After clearing off a small space on the edge of one sturdy table, Tiernan hops up to sit on it, letting his booted feet swing randomly beneath him. "What's that?" he asks simply.

Spinning forth flows of solid Earth, Kiziel rapidly constructs the framework needed for the first step in his project. Soon, rising from the molten pool in a small shower of sparks, a simple circle appears. About the size of a circlet - or collar - it's thin enough to be almost delicate, beginning to cool the moment it's moved away from the heating sway of the tied off weave. "I'm going to confine her to the Black Tower's grounds. Maybe to a smaller radius - that way the Black Tower itself might be out of bounds, but even if she is somehow given an order that she interprets to mean she needs to go back to the White Tower, or go fetch her friends from Caemlyn, she can't leave the area without checking with us first." The Asha'man spins forth a simple flow of Fire as he finishes, slowly draining the remaining heat out of his little metal circle and funneling it back into the molten pool. [Kiziel]

Tiernan fixes his gaze on the circlet of metal as it rises and forms and begins to cool. At first narrowing curiously, at Kiziel's explanation, the Kandori's eyes widen and his eyebrows rise. "Uh..." He looks at the Asha'man expectantly, but continues without waiting for further word. "What, are you going to ward a collar on her? Just keep her leashed here?" For someone who was just arguing the necessity of a small room with a coffin for a bed, Tiernan seems a little strangely unnerved by the Souvra's contruct.

Kiziel simply nods his head, not giving the Souvra a direct response. The flow of Earth maintaining his little circle is replaced by one of Air, holding it aloft in a gentle mesh, while an additional weave, Earth again, courses through it, smoothing the metal and polishing it to a dull shine. And then the Asha'man reaches out, testing carefully to be sure the heat was properly drained from the construct, before grasping the little collar and turning, setting it on the table behind himself. And then he turns and again uses his accelerated means of forging metal to cause a shape to rise out of the molten pool. This one, however, is far simple: a tightly woven mesh of Earth causes a simple spike, like what one might use to hold down a tent, to rise up from the red hot morass, dripping little droplets of molten steel as it sloughs off spare metal. Again the Asha'man spins forth Fire to drain the heat from the spike at an accelerated pace, and soon he has his second fabricated object to go with the circle. "It'll get her outside. A collar places it where she can't see it to weave at it and find holes in the Ward, but where any Asha'man can remove it from her with ease should *we* decide to take her off Black Tower grounds."

Continuing to watch Kiziel form up the collar and then the spike, Tiernan furrows his brow. For quite a while, his green eyes slowly move back and forth between the two creations, his expression pensive. "She could still channel at a collar," he says, almost idly. "It wouldn't be wholly precise, but she could still see her own flows and be able to tell where she was directing them." This argument is given more as an intellectual point of order rather than a statement of contention about the concept as a whole. On that point, Tiernan seems to still be making up his mind. 

Kiziel nods his head almost absently as this second piece of metal gets the same once over with Earth, smoothing away any imperfections to leave it dully polished, before he sets it beside what will soon be a collar. And then he leans down over the two of them, crafting a tiny and intricate mesh of Earth, the flows hair-thin but spun with a precision equaling that of the most complex weave. When he is done, a simple but elegant icon of an Eye - the same one on the Souvra pin at his collar, in fact - raises itself from the metal of the collar. A second weave duplicates the effect on the spike, marking both with the same raised symbol. "Weave at it, yes, but not with enough precision to slice the Ward without setting it off. It's not a foolproof means of keeping her here, Tiernan, it's a compromise. It gives her space larger than eight by eight to move around in, but lets us know roughly where she is without having to babysit her." He pauses, before adding, "Though the Aethan may wind up doing something like that anyway - I'll talk to Telir and see how he feels about it before dismissing her guards."

Tiernan tilts his head as Kiziel marks up the collar and spike with the precise, intricate symbol of his Talon, a grin finally making its way back onto his face as he plainly admires the craftsmanship. Mention of Telir brings a chuckle on top of the grin and as he nods, his chin drops to his chest in quiet amusement. "Yeah," he says, smiling slyly, "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to let that feather in his cap go to you instead." The rascally sarcasm drops away, but the grin remains. "You might also want to check how they want to handle her meeting the other Sedai. Chances are better than fair they'll run into each other at some point."

Kiziel shrugs his shoulders gently, picking up the two objects he's now forged, and pushing Saidin from himself with some force. He drops the Void and sighs, quietly. "Hopefully he won't be too put out. Still, I'm sure he'll be able to see the utility of what I'm doing...?" The last part is said as half statement, half hopeful inquiry, as though looking for agreement from his Rahien companion. With the spike in his left hand and the Collar in his right, the Asha'man turns and begins walking towards the door to his lab once more, this time planning on heading back the way they just came, to where the Aes Sedai is still sleeping.

A short shrug is Tiernan's only response to the hopeful Souvra's comments on the Aethan Dedicated who is, at least presently, nominally in charge of the new visitor to the Black Tower. Sliding off the table after Kiziel moves past him toward the door, the Rahien slips his hands into his pockets and saunters off after the tall Asha'man. "Are you really sure about this?" he asks quietly. "Just letting her walk around the Farm? Not just from her, but from... you know," he gestures to the grounds of the Black Tower generally, "walking around the Farm?" Though he is not overly concerned with Aalaryn's personal welfare in particular, the possibility for disruption is not necessarily a minor one. [Tiernan]

A frown purses Kiziel's lips for a moment at Tiernan's words, and he nods his head slowly. "You're right, but... I also don't think keeping her locked in a box - even if it's bigger than the one the Reds had the Lord Dragon in - is the right answer either. This gives her a reasonable measure of freedom, without us having to babysit her. And when she does, inevitably, run into the others, she won't need to tell them that she's being treated like an animal. It's not like we can order her to lie on our behalf..." As the pair approach their destination, Kiziel nods in response to a pair of thumped salutes from the Aethan guards, and then gestures for the Rahien to precede him into the room. 

Tiernan sighs again and opens the door, stepping inside and moving in to hold the door for the Asha'man. Giving it a little shove to swing it closed, the Rahien moves across the room to the sleeping Aes Sedai, saying once more, quietly, "I don't like it, Kiziel." Beyond that, he ceases his arguing. Instead, he leans down, looking at the Red curled up in the cushion of Air and reaches out to give her shoulder a squeeze. A relatively gentle squeeze at first, increasing in pressure only if she proves difficult to awaken. Once signs of life can be seen, he takes two long steps back and stands silent vigil over round two of her encounter with Kiziel.

Waiting for his companion to finish waking the unconscious Aes Sedai, Kiziel gives the woman a slight smile, the look on his face trying to be encouraging, though he's not exactly good at it. In one hand he holds a polished circle of metal, in the other what looks like a small tent spike, both gleaming dully in the light given off by the glowing sphere above. He does not speak yet, instead waiting until the woman rises - or at least, until she achieves consciousness - to address her. [Kiziel]

It is unknown to the Red how long she had been out. If she could have seen the caring displayed as she fainted she would have been truly touched. As Tiernan gently squeezes her shoulder Aalaryn stirs, opening her eyes and blinking several times. She looks at Tiernan for a moment as if she is trying to remember who he is then suddenly - she sits up. Then it hits her, she was asleep.. but she was floating? Light! She's going to get beaten or worse. "I.." she stammers, "I'm sorry." [Aalaryn]

Tiernan shakes his head from several paces back and shrugs. "You're not in trouble," he says coolly, though aside from that mild assurance, the Rahien keeps quiet. Hands sliding once more into his pockets, pushing open the length of his stark black coat, he looks toward Kiziel and nods, both to direct Aalaryn's attention in that direction and to hand over the spotlight to the Asha'man.

Now that Aalaryn appears to be at least somewhat aware of her surroundings, Kiziel speaks, his voice quiet. "Stand up for me, Aalaryn. And hold still for a few moments." His tone is almost kind, but the moment he finishes speaking, his expression blanks with the Void, and Saidin again comes to his call. The amount of the One Power he pours through himself is relatively minor, so the cloud of menace emanating from him is mild, rather than the intense aura he gave off before. While waiting for the Aes Sedai to follow her orders, the Souvra steps forward, glancing quickly towards Tiernan as he does so, but then directing his gaze again at the woman before him. He stops moving when he is quite close to her, easily within arms reach.

Aalaryn's eyes move from Tiernan to Kiziel. As asked, the Red stands up and then for a second glances down, realizing just then that she was sleeping without touching the ground. The power must have been used. She looks back up and towards Kiziel. "I am sorry, that was.. I didn't mean to.." she gives up trying to speak as she's already embarassed from fainting.

Tiernan meets Kiziel's gaze, but shows no real reaction to it. There is a faintly disgruntled look in his otherwise neutral expression, just a hint of disappointment around the eyes and a fractional sneer on his lips betray the Rahien's feelings. The faintest of sighs lifts and lowers his shoulders, so quick and quiet that probably only Kiziel will be able to tell it was anything other than a breath. No further words of encouragement leave the Kandori's mouth at Aalaryn's further apology.

Voice cold with the Void, Kiziel says simply, "As Tiernan said, you're not in trouble. In fact, I came here to offer you at least a little more freedom." And with that, the Asha'man raises up the hand that holds the dully polished ring of metal. Tucking the spike into one of his pockets, for the moment, he spins a tiny thread of Earth through the little band, neatly parting it in two places with a quiet pop. Then he reaches his hands up and places both halves of the metal on either side of Aalaryn's neck, before channeling again. This time he spins forth two distinct weaves of Earth, one on either break, and the two halves of the collar again become one - this time seamlessly joining around the Aes Sedai's neck. Whatever her reaction to that, the Asha'man adds quietly, "Hold still, just a moment longer." And pulls out the small spike, holding it across his open palm near the woman. [Kiziel]

Aalaryn doesn't move to get away from Kiziel, even if she wanted to she's got no place to go. "A collar?" No sooner than the words leave her lips does the Asha'man encircle her neck with the creation. She lifts up her hands, reaching toward her neck as it is fastened in place by the Power. She's not even trying to school her expressions and reactions anymore, curiosity and hurt can be read on her face and in her eyes. She opens her mouth to speak but decides against it and remains silent. However if she can touch the collar without being stopped or pain, she would.

Tiernan inspects Kiziel's handiwork more intently than is strictly necessary, but it does keep his eyes focused on something other than the Red as the collar slips around her throat and binds itself together behind her neck. Though the young Dedicated looks calm and relaxed, apparently content to simply be present, the even neutrality remains faintly disturbed. As Aalaryn reaches up to test the seamless metal choker, his green eyes slide down to the spike in Kiziel's hand.

The second part of Kiziel's weaving comes next, and this one is far more complex. He spins forth an intricate mesh, primarily of Spirit, but with Earth and Fire laced throughout liberally, the flows looping back and forth between collar and spike. The weaving takes him a minute, this time, and when he is done, he ties the whole thing off tightly, with an intricate knotting that takes nearly as long as the original construction of the weave. Only when that is done does he nod to himself in satisfaction, stepping back, spike still upraised. "I'm going to do what I can to get you a little freedom. You look like you've been cooped up in here far too long. Unfortunately... you'll need to earn quite a bit more good will before we can let you go on simply your Oaths. The Asha'man have had too many bad encounters with Reds in the past for that." 

As the Souvra speaks, he pushes Saidin from himself, dropping the Void before going on to explain in a more normal voice. "That collar is Warded. Step too far from this Spike - call it a hundred yards - and it will begin to heat up. That's your warning. Keep moving, and it will get hot enough to kill you. Try to cut the flows, and it will get hot enough to kill you." He pauses, and then adds, almost as an afterthought, "Also, as an order: Do not try to remove this collar, or the weaves, or move the spike on your own. If the Asha'man desire it off of you, we will do so ourselves." With that, Kiziel looks back towards Tiernan, asking, "Are there any other modifications to her orders you can think of right now?" 

Aalaryn listens to the instructions given by Kiziel about the spike and how the collar will act. She turns her head slightly and finds that it's not restrictive to movement even though it's still not the most pleasant idea of what to wear. Her attention moves to the spike in the Souvra's hand before returning to the two Asha'man before her. "Thank you. I understand that I have a long road ahead of me."

As Kiziel weaves his intricate Ward and equally complex knot, Tiernan's expression becomes studious and mildly impressed. A single, shallow, satisfied nod is his final reaction to the completed Ward, but when the Asha'man begins speaking to Aalaryn again, the vaguely dissatisfied twist to his otherwise non-emotive expression returns. Kiziel's question receives a blunt stare and a few moments of heavy silence, then he grinds his teeth once, the muscles lining his well-defined jawline flexing noticeably. With his gaze still on the tall Souvra's pale green eyes, he says evenly, "The coffin." 

Kiziel nods his head at Tiernan, glancing back towards the coffin for a moment, before looking to Aalaryn. "I'll see if we can get you a bed. You do not need to sleep in the coffin." He gestures towards the space behind the woman, where his weave of Air will likely persist for at least another day, if not a week. "You can use that for now." He pauses a moment, then glances towards the door. "The Aethan outside will continue to guard you for now - I need to speak with their superior - but I'll ask them to let you out of the room for at least long enough to see the sky. I'll return soon, and then you're going to teach me everything the Reds use to fight male channelers. There will be further research after that." The Asha'man gives a little smile there, just a little one. "We're... we're not all bad, Aalaryn. But you're right. You have a long, long road ahead of you. I'm going to give your leash a little play. Don't use it to strangle yourself." He nods towards Tiernan then. "And please don't convince my friend that I've made a mistake here."

Aalaryn visibly wilts when the coffin is brought up by Tiernan. She shakes her head and folds her arms across her chest, not in defiance but in more of a self comforting manner. Kiziel's words yet again take her full attention. He's taking the coffin away! "Thank you!" she reaches out to take the Souvra's hands, her expression clearly relieved. 

Tiernan remains mostly impassive - other than his vague, hard-to-define discontent - as Kiziel gives his new set of instructions to the Aes Sedai. The last line of his little speech causes the Dedicated to look off to the side and briefly close his eyes, though not quickly enough to hide their querulous roll, not that anyone is looking at him to catch his disbelieving response. When Aalaryn gets all happy and gratified, Tiernan keeps his face turned away as his nostrils flare and once again his jawline flexes. Seething in silence, the Dedicated just stands, hands casually tucked into his pockets, not gainsaying his superior - his friend - on this decision.

Seeming quite surprised by Aalaryn's actions, Kiziel never the less allows her to take his hands, a faint flush tingeing his cheeks for a moment. His expression is serious, however, when he looks at her. "Aes Sedai, I am doing something against my nature here: I am putting myself and my companions in some danger. Though I, personally, believe that danger to be quite small, and think that we should not allow ourselves to become monsters in the course of our actions..." He trails off for a moment, and then steps back, pulling himself free of her hands. "If it turns out that by becoming monsters, we avert catastrophe to the world, we will all do what we must." The Asha'man nods his head once more, adding simply, "Have a good day, Aalaryn. I will speak with you again soon." And with that, he turns, nodding to Tiernan and gesturing for the man to come with him as he leaves the little room. [Kiziel]

"I understand." Aalaryn moves to compose herself once again, she remains standing however out of respect. Even if she is a prisoner she will act as if she is a guest and proceed with manners and proper respect.

With one very swift glance to the collared Red, Tiernan moves his feet with a graceful, but decidedly quick, gait. He actually manages to strike a decent balance between leaving immediately if not sooner and remaining relatively composed, but it is clear the Rahien is more than glad to follow Kiziel out of the cramped little room and its viper of a tenant. His long steps take him across the threshold and a few paces away from the door before he slows again.


	6. Aalaryn meets Cathbad

As the weather grows warmer the more time Aalaryn seems to spend outside at the Farm. Only two of the wives seem to tolerate the Aes Sedai and even so she does her best to not hover about them so that they aren't ridiculed by her presence. Today, instead of her usual work in the gardens, she is hanging up freshly washed clothing to dry on the lines.

With a frustrated look about him, Cathbad slowly works his way around the Farm. One of the few men here NOT in a black coat, the man with silvery locks hanging from his temples stops about twenty feet from the wet clothing. He sets his staff down hard, the iron shod end digging a ways into the dirt. Cathbad blinks and takes the void, pulling Saidin to him in a mental wrestling match that spans but a few heartbeats more. In this state, he knows better than to try some new weave, letting the urge to experiment slide aside for now. His attention, does come upon an Aes Sedai and the collar on her neck, however.

Aalaryn's actions slow, her hands still on what appears to be a large white sheet that she was in the process of smoothing out. She glances quizzically towards the silvery locked man, taking note that he is not in the usual attire of an Asha'man. Pursing her lips in thought, she finishes smoothing out the sheet and clasping it in place, wondering if this is some kind of test devised to trip her up. The rest of the laundry can wait for the moment. "Asha'man," she turns to face Cathbad, "is there something that I can do for you?"

Cathbad shakes his head and says in a rough voice devoid of emotion, "I am no Asha'man. Not yet, at least. I am Cathbad." The man concentrates for several moments, staring at a certain spot in the air. Unbeknownst to the Sedai, Cathbad drew forth a thin flow of Power, then dismissed it. Each of the Elements was done in turn: Air, Fire, Spirit, Earth, and Water. Somewhere in there, the Cathbad frowned slightly, a leftover reaction to some kind of problem, and not an emotional response. He then pushes Saidin away, and a moment later releases the void. Clearing his throat, Cathbad says in a smoother voice, "I've had to do all for myself while here, why would today be different?"

Aalaryn folds her hands at her waist, some habits from the White Tower remain with the Red, "It is just that I do not often see many men here on the Farm. And those who do come here, or at least near to me, have questions that they would like answered." The honey haired Arafellin glances towards the larger Farmhouse where most of the women have gathered, she's sure they've got something to gossip about now.

Cathbad nods with a slight bow, "Well, I do I have questions, but I will attempt to keep the ones I ask to a minium. First, who is it I have the honor of addressing?", curiousity in his voice. As he awaits a response, he glances to her hands, then to the collar where his vision pauses. "I came here, so as to not die," he says somewhat coldly.

Aalaryn returns Cathbad's bow with a polite curtsey. "Aalaryn Rouskova," she gestures to herself with her right hand, the serpent ring glitters on her left. As she finishes her title she glances down, knowing well the thoughts of her kind and her Ajah, "I am an Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah." When she lifts her eyes to look at the man before her concern can be seen but she does not speak. 

The man's eyes widen slightly at the mention of her Ajah. "Well," he says slowly, pausing, "It seems I would have a question or two further for you, if you would consider providing the information I seek," uncertainty to his voice. A somewhat worried look remains on the man's face, "It pertains to your Ajah's... task, though." 

"You may ask any questions that you wish, Master Cathbad." Aalaryn's hands move to her sides where they rest though she does hold her skirts a bit, perhaps out of nervousness. 

Cathbad smirks, "But I may not expect answers. I understand," he says calmly. "I had wondered, about how many male Wilders did the Tower find each year? Both in the years before the Dragon declared himself, and after." There does seem to be an interest in his question. However, he spots the nervous habit and frowns, "Have I done something to upset you? Is it my presence?"

Aalaryn tilts her head slightly as she considers Cathbad's question. "I do not know," she realizes her hands and then lets loose of her skirts, "I was not often asked to travel with my other Red Sisters when they would go, I tend to have a different outlook on men with the gift." His question comes back to her mind, she was going to ignore it but decides against it. "I am always a little nervous when meeting with an Asha'man, regardless of the level of training he has received."

Cathbad nods slowly as Aalaryn speaks. "Well, I hope this hasn't been too troublesome," the last couple words coming out gravelly. With a clearing of his throat, he asks inquisitively, "If you don't mind, what outlook do you have on men who can channel?" One might note that the smells of sulphur and charcoal are present, though more faint than they once were.

"I think that many of my Sisters often forget that Ages ago Aes Sedai were men -and- women." The Red makes a circle before her with her hands, silly Sedai, always teaching somehow. "Initialy," she lowers her hands back to her waist, "the Red Ajah was concerned with the misuse of the Power and ensuring that those with the ability come to the Tower to learn, however after the Breaking of the World," the Arafellin sighs softly, "I feel that they took the meaning of misuse of the Power to mean hunting down men with the gift due to the taint that was placed upon the male half of the source." 

Cathbad's eyes widen at the idea that in the last age there were male Aes Sedai, and listens in stunned silence at the rest. "Well, the Taint was a terrible, terrible thing, even when channeling with irregularity," shivering in remembrance of the terrible oily sick which creeped into one's soul. "I thank you, Aalaryn Sedai," he says appreciatively, a small smile on the man's face, though it looks out of place, with the scowl and worry lines etched.

Aalaryn lifts her hand in a pausing gesture, "I'm sorry but, is something burning?" The quizzical look on her ageless face might even be amusing. "I realize that my question might be odd, and I apologize for that, but I can't place it."

Cathbad lifts his nose up towards the sky, taking a couple of sniffs, turning his head this way and that. "I do not believe so, no." Taking a whiff of his shoulder, he wryly smirks, then speaks with a cheeky smile, "Perhaps it has to do with the fact that prior to coming here," a flourishing bow is given, "I was a Master Illuminator of the Caemlyn Chapterhouse."

Aalaryn lifts her hand to her mouth, "Oh!" she sounds surprised, "I did not know that there was a Chapterhouse in Caemlyn. I have only heard of the shows from other Sisters who had traveled to Tarabon. It is an honor to meet you, from what I understand a great deal of concentration is required for your profession."

Cathbad smiles, then shrugs, "A great deal of care in preparing our items, that is certain. For the performances, it is more a matter of being showy and not interupttng the host of the event." "The Caemlyn Chapterhouse formed quite recently, and the troubles that have befallen the ones in Tarabon and Cairhien make it the last bastion of Illuminators left. The Chapterhouse is, actually away from the city, due both to available location and the ability to maintain our secrets."

Aalaryn listens attentively, she knows very little of the mysterious Illuminators. In fact she's never seen one of their displays. "Think of what one could do with the Power during a display.." she muses, imagining the multicolored stars in the night sky, "I.. I'm sorry," the Red seems to remember herself and her little daydream comes to an end. "You seemed surprised that men and women were once both Aes Sedai, may I ask why?"

Cathbad shrugs, "Because it was something I had not before contemplated. I mean, I understand the Taint was due to the counterstroke for the Dragon's sealing, but I had not thought the White Tower would have held men and women," sounding somewhat uncomfortable. "Then again," he smirks as if recalling something, "It was another Age, and many things were different," a smug, knowing look on his face. 

"Yes, things were -very- different," the Red nods in agreement. "As you have come here to learn to harness your gift, I have come here to make amends, to learn what I can. I feel that my ajah has acted without honor and, while I have not been party with all of their actions, I am still responsible for them." [Aalaryn]

Cathbad frowns at the mention of her Ajah's actions, "My gifts would include more, if a letter of mine could reach my colleagues." With a sigh, he says, "I will be able to do so soon enough, I hope, once they trust me more. Hopefully, it will not be too long," some weariness in his words. "Anyway, I should not keep you from your chores. I know how they... disapprove of the chores not being completed," a bit of annoyance in his voice.

Aalaryn chuckles softly. "In ways the Towers are different, in ways they are very much the same." The Red offers a reassuring smile, "I do not wish to bring trouble to you either, but any time you wish to chat, I am not adverse to it." She glances over her shoulder as one of the plump and rather mean wives can be seen standing at the door with her hands on her hips. "She doesn't like me much," she whispers scandalously.

Cathbad looks icily to the matron. "Thank you," he says turning and looking pleasantly to Aalaryn. "This has been quite an interesting conversation. I look forward to more," he says with a smile. "I best be getting back to my studies," pulling a small book, marked all up. "It was a pleasure," he says with another bow to Aalaryn.

Aalaryn nods to Cathbad. "Light guide your studies." At the wife who is glaring at the Red she gives a bright smile before returning to her chores.


	7. And then there was pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aalaryn was bored on the farm and made pies. Lots of pies.

It is midafternoon and for once Aalaryn is not loaded down with tasks and chores on the Farm by any of the wives. She has a moment of free time to herself and what is she doing? Sitting on the ground sorting through herbs and tieing them into bundles so that she can hang them to dry. Beside her are a few books which are resting on a short stool. 

Out and about, mentally readying himself for the trials to come by doing his best to mentally visualize the weaves he has learned as quick as he can. After a while of doing this while walking around the farm, he divulges himself from the mantle of his emotions, taking on the emotionless caste of the Void with a deliberate breath out, and twisting Saidin to his grasp on the following breath in. Drawing enough to work said weaves, he goes through the motions of going through the flows, correcting himself with a frown at mistakes. After going through each twice, he pushes away Saidin, coldly taking stock of his practice, finding it... merely satisfactory. Cathbad, finding himself walking along the wall, nods to the Red Ajah'd Sedai, and releases his hold on the void, His face noticibily warming, he says, gravelly, "Hello again." 

"Hello," she replies as she finishes tying off the last knot. Aalaryn looks up, the bundle set aside now, to see who has come to visit her. "Oh!" she stands up and smooths her skirts. "Master Cathbad, how are you?" 

Cathbad clears his throat, taking a sip from a waterskin which may contain something honeyed. He says in a more pleasant-sounding tone, "Learning some of the least powerful ways by which one man may kill another," adding a sigh. "Some atually interesting things, too," he'll add with interested delight. "But," annoyedly added, "It's remarkabily slow going." With concern, he asks, "How have you been,... Aalaryn?"

Aalaryn blinks a few times concerning the subject matter, "I suppose you'd need to know that," after all the Asha'man are the Dragon's army. "If I knew how to help with your studies I would, I don't know how well my explanation of how something is woven with Saidar would relate well to Saidin." She pauses for a moment debating this. When he asks how she is a look of surprise can be seen in her eyes. "Me?" she asks curiously, "I am well. Not used to having free time to myself."

Cathbad nods. "Yes, they've told me to prepare, as I will be tested at some point in the near future," obviously not thrilled with this, perhaps due to his limp and utilizing the staff for standing. "Thank you for the pie. It was delicious," he says with a warm grin, remembering it. "So, during your free time, you're," glancing at the packets, "Making herb bundles?"

Aalaryn's lips curve into a smile. "I am glad that you liked it." She seems really touched that you enjoyed the pie. "Ah," she looks to the packets of herbs she's been bundling, "yes," she glances back to him. "I thought I could spend my time learning herbs, which ones are medicinal and what they are used for. Not all things should be Healed with the power or our bodies forget how to combat illness on their own." Folding her hands at her wait she inclines her head slightly to the side, "I'd usually be instructing Novices or Accepted and it seems we're a bit short on those. Although I am curious," she takes a moment to compose herself before continuing, curiosity is evident even upon her ageless face, "if an Aes Sedai, or any female who can channel, would describe how we construct a flow if you could create it?"

Cathbad's eyes widen wide with wariness and nervousness. "One might be able to create such a thing, but... as Saidin both works with and against Saidar to turn the Wheel, there's a great chance it could do something completely different, or accidentally harm any in the area." With a shudder, he represses that thought for now. "The same would likely hold true from trying to describe any of the weaves they've taught me."

Aalaryn lifts her hands slowly, "I am not going to attempt to do so." She sighs softly and glances at her hands, "I don't get much company. Anne is busy with her children and the others hate me. Sometimes my tongue just gets the best of me." The Arafellin rubs her hands together and looks up, her expression as schooled as she can manage. "Though I do thank you for entertaining my question."

Cathbad nods, and gives the woman a hopeful smile. "You're welcome. It is refreshing for me to have another to talk to who isn't so fervant with their indocrtrination." Cathbad gives a small frown as he asks, "Why would someone hate you?", and adding a moment later, "For your Ajah?" Cathbad's frown continues after this for a moment, then shock and a cough following.

Aalaryn nods quietly. "Yes," she replies simply, it's pretty evident how the Reds have treated men with the ability. "I used to try to explain but now," she shrugs and shakes her head a bit causing the bells sewn to her hair ribbon to sing softly, "I just let it be." When the blue-green eyed man frowns and coughs she inquires, "Are you alright? I can get some water.." she bends down to get her water jug.

Patting his waterskin, he says in a, "I've got myself a honeyed tea," and taking a sip with a grin. "Oh," he says as he remembers, "When you link with another, how does that work"?" Asking out of curiousity. With a sigh, he adds, "Maybe it's just me, but as you're still alive, they want you here. So," he adds, "My thoughts are that you'll be fine. With that collar, though, I don't know." The last half-word lasts as he glancces at himself, shaking his head. 

Aalaryn has been doing her best to truly ignore the metal thing about her neck, at least it's loose enough so she isn't in a panic about breathing. She lifts her shoulders in the faintest of shrugs, "the collar is something I am learning to live with," her voice is quite a bit softer when she speaks about it, "That has yet to be determined if they want me here, I do not know how useful I am to them." Since she's got her water jug in hand she takes a sip of water.

Cathbad tucks his lips in. "Well, they're not going to let you live with what you've seen or heard," said a bit contemplatively. "At least, not unless the White Tower is stirring up trouble regarding the Black." Taking another sip, "So, how does one... link up?", the man asks curiously.

"Linking.." Aalaryn purses her lips for a moment while recalling the lessons she's given on how to establish a link, "...is the act of two or more channelers joining together to share their powers between them," the lesson fresh in her mind she continues to explain, her hands clasped tightly together at her waist, "It is written in our library that men cannot link without a woman and that a circle of women cannot exceed thirteen without a man in the link. If a man and a woman link, the man leads the link, if a man and more than one women link then any may lead." She pauses, uncertain of how to continue. "It is like.. if I were to grasp saidar, which I cannot right now, I would then pass my power to the leader of the link much like you would pass bread." 

Cathbad continues to stand, nodding at the information, througout, being quietly reasuring. "That is interesting. Does it just take one woman to allow a whole group of men to link together, or is that not something that is a usual concern?" Frowning, he says, "Still, that's something to think about." Taking a deep breath and smiles to Aalaryn, squatting down to eye level, "You would not like to hear about how taking ahold of Saidin works," he says warningly. "I have heard of the blossoming flower of Saidar works. Saidin is like a torrent to control," he says with a shiver, "and direct as you need it."

The Arafellin nods, "it is something to think about. If only I had access to the library I could give you your answer. "You don't surrender to Saidin?" Aalaryn's curiosity is evident, "then how do you control it?" She keeps her questions to one at a time so that she can commit what she learns to memory. 

With a curt shake of his head, the once-Wilder, one-Master Illuminator, says, coldly, "One assumes the Flame and the Void," using the proper name for the technique, "and sets aside one's own emotions," reiterating what it does. "Then, one tightly grips the torrential rapids of a river that is Saidin, and siezes ahold of it, pulling the power through ones's self." With a deep breath, he relaxes, having had tensed up during the explaining. "The void is not strictly necessary, but without it is a quick road to burning out, from what I'm told, since Saidin rages and wails against being held." 

"I wonder if it was always so," Aalaryn asks, "the torrent of rage and power of Saidin I mean." She's heard the Gaidin of the White Tower speak of the Flame and the Void but she really doesn't understand what it is, or how it works. "I've heard of the Flame and the Void but, I do not understand how it works." 

Cathbad shrugs, "I would it'd have been this way eternally, as they are equal and opposite halves. Saidar being the peaceful and serene. Saidin being the opposite." Cathbad thinks about the Void, and says with an annoyed sigh, "You imagine a flame, feed it each part of you, until there's only the flame... and the void around it." Cathbad appologizes, "I'm... not the best instructor for this, but it takes some doing. One who knows it well would probably be able to help you understand it."

Aalaryn gives a small nod of understanding, "It is alright, I do appreciate the explanation that you have given me." She will have to try this feeding the flame meditation at another time. Perhaps it's because they've been speaking so franky that prompts her to ask, "What is it about this," she touches the collar, knowing the spike is someplace out there in the field, "that troubles you?"

Cathbad shifts his gaze to the collar, then back to Aalaryn. "Mostly, that it exists. Also, if they wanted you to not channel, they could have just Shielded you, tying it or keeping a soldier on it." Adding with a frown, "with you shielded, keeping you on the Farm would've been easy."

"The Lord Dragon had ordered my shield removed once I had sworn fealty to him," the Red continues, "I also swore that I would never channel or even attempt to embrace saidar without permission. There are -consequences-." Aalaryn does not go into what those consequences are, but she acknowledges them. "To be honest I'm quite thankful that I wasn't severed, or killed." The words 'your life belongs to us now' return to her mind and again she shakes her head to clear it. A sprig of mint is picked up and she breaks off a leaf and places it in her mouth. 

Frowning at hearing her words, he speaks, "I figured death was most likely of outcomes in coming here, but the alternative was to be found a Wilder in the field. For this collar to be added after you swore," looking to Aalaryn. He is obviously upset with this news, on her behalf. "Why would they ignore the Dragon's order?", he asks with astonishment. 

Aalaryn has often considered the very question herself. "I would presume safety, and trust." She didn't ask questions, she was too scared to at the time. "At least it is not an a'dam, and for that I am thankful." Apparently the White Tower knows of the damane and the ter'angreal that controls them.

Reports from Tanchico about the Senachan and their channelers had reached his desk. Nodding, Cathbad agrees, "Yes, that is a nasty trick of the power," referring to the item. "At least it is not that." Clearing his throat, he adds, "Well, I must be back to my lesson practice," he says with a friendly sorrow. Stretching out, from stiffness, he adds, "I may be missed if I am gone too long, and I'm afraid that would be too easy." 

Aalaryn offers a small smile to Cathbad as he rises, nodding in understanding. "I understand, it was nice having the chance to talk." She rises as well, a gesture of respect for the man who is here to train. "Light keep you, Cathbad."

Cathbad smiles back to the one trapped here. He has enjoyed their chat. "May the Light Illumine," he says in response, heading back to the Recruit... Initiate barracks. The limp seems less pronounced that it did prior to them meeting.


	8. Discussions over laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aalaryn has been given even more chores - now she also has the responsibility of laundering the bedding from the barracks.

Sitting on a chair to the right of the entrance to the barracks he bunks in, the once-Illuminator sits quietly, his staff leaning against the wall to his right. A relaxed, though distant look is on his face, devoid emotion as he maintains the state known as 'the void'. Now and then his brows will slightly furrow, as though he is concentrating. What is happening is that Cathbad is seizing Saidin in his mental grasp, and with an iron will, drawing a small portion of power through him, enough to create a globe of light, but not much more. After holding the power for a moment, doing nothing obvious with it, he pushes it away. This continues several times a minute, exercising this mental muscle. 

Coming to the front of the building, a very large basket in hand, is Aalaryn. The contents appear to be cloth of some kind, most likely linens for the bunk house. Her step is slow, the chore of the day seeming to weigh her down in spirit as much as physically. She is much in her own little world until an orb of light winks in and then out of existence, causing her to stop and look. To her surprise there's a familiar, and friendly, face. "good day, Master Cathbad." 

Cathbad ceases his mental exercise, turns his head towards the friendly voice and looks towards the familiar face. Unless she has seen a lot of people with expressionless faces, his would look a bit disapproving. Letting the void go, a smile makes its way across his face, reaching his eyes. "It is a good day," he says with a lightness, taking a deep breath. "It's warming and there's a pleasant breeze. How does this day find you, Aalaryn Sedai?", he politely inquires.

Aalaryn moves to set down the heavy basket on the ground but pauses, uncertain if he is upset with her or not until a smile begins to appear. "It is," she nods, the bells sewn to her hair ribbon softly chime with her action, "but please, just Aalaryn." Her words said she sets down the basket with a sigh. "Though, I appreciate the kind gesture but honorifics, at least to me, are not needed. Here I am just a woman."

Cathbad frowns slightly, "You are no mere woman anymore than I am a common man, but if you wish titles omitted, I will oblige." His smile returning, he brushes back his white-streaked locks behind his ears, "So, Aalaryn, they've given you the laundry to do?", he queries. The man has a puzzled look on his face, as if this seems unusual to him.

Aalaryn chuckles softly at the question, "Oh yes, I do quite a bit of laundry, more here than I ever did as a Novice in the White Tower." Her eyes are upon the basket of linens before her, checking to ensure that none of the cleaned and dried sheets touch any part of the ground and are well within the basket before she takes a seat on the ground beside the basket. "I thank you," she adds, referring to your previous statement. "How is your training going? You seemed to create the ball of light with great ease." Well from the point of view of an Aes Sedai who cannot see the flows it did look easy.

Cathbad shrugs, "It's going," he says bluntly and crypticly. In the tone of one used to explaining things, he exposits, "Currently, I take a lot longer than others to grasp ahold of Saidin and pull its power through me. Others... take a heartbeat or two, while I take the span of a slow breath or two." Shutting his mouth, he definately is thinking something over, but whether it's that Aalaryn could help, or that he may have said too much, is impossible to tell. Clearing his throat, he almost asks something, but then does not and shakes his head slightly.

Being from the White Tower Aalaryn is used to watching body language and making mental notes, Cathbad's sudden silence and throat clearing prompt her words, "Cathbad," she begins all the while carefully arranging her skirts about her, "do us both a favor and say what you're thinking. Keeping in questions and gaping like that will cause bad digestion when you eat." Yep, she may not want to be called Aes Sedai but she still can pull that sedai-tone and use it at will. 

Cathbad's eyes narrow to daggers, obvious dislike at being given something like an order. He quickly and fluidly stands up, drawing to his full height and looking down upon the woman. "I keep in questions, because a thousand possibilities sometimes go through my head in mere minutes," the voice of authority ringing loud, without actually yelling. "Now," letting out an annoyed huff, and continuing in a more accommodating, understanding voice, "The last was wondering how many years it has been since you did Novice laundry, but that is none of my business, and I have no right to ask. Before that, was whether you might be able to aid me, but you have your own chores to complete, and I would not interrupt those for any ill that may befall either of us for doing so. In fact, whether it would be even appropriate for you to assist me with the Power comes to question." Finishing the ever-flowing, measured speech, he calmly awaits Aalaryn's response.

Aalaryn jumps, startled as he rises up quickly, his authoritative voice adding to her soon to be huddlesome state. She looks down and closes her eyes for a moment, certain that she had crossed the line in some way and that this is the end. When no one comes snatching her up by her collar and Cathbad's voice is more even she slowly opens her eyes, when she speaks her tone is much more agreeable, "I am one hundred and thirty seven years old. I was a Novice when I was fifteen so it has been some time." She does, however, consider if there would be any way that she could help him with his studies. "If answering questions can help then yes, I can. If sending me away will help, all you need to do is give the order."

Cathbad frowns, unhappy at the turn of events. "Neither actually helps. I... appreciate the conversations we have, but it is not my desire to compell answers to private questions I have no place in asking." Apologetically, he offers her his hand. "Before coming here, I was the Master of Chapterhouse in Caemlyn for the last of the Guild of Illuminators, and its Head Researcher prior to that position. Forgive me if being talked down to does not come easily."

Aalaryn accepts his hand and rises from her sitting position. A softly murmured 'thank you' can be heard, while her hand is in his she takes note of his hands - a little rough but not coarse or hard as they would be if he had been part of hard labor. "Please accept my apology, I -" she sighs and shakes her head mainly at her own actions and lack of words, "what does the head researcher do exactly, if I may ask? I know that secrets for the Illuminators are highly guarded secrets and I do not wish to jeapordize your oaths of secrecy."

Cathbad smiles, "Well, we do not just preserve knowledge of fireworks, but expand upon them," leaving specifics unsaid but a knowing, delighted smile on his face. His oaths of secrecy hold, for now. "Your apology is accepted, Aalaryn," slowly nodding his head and bowing slightly. With his staff taking up residence in his other hand, it is about as much as he can easily manage.

The Arafellin woman returns your smile in kind and, after a moment she speaks, "If you do not my asking," Aalaryn begins, her eyes move to the staff that he takes up, "do you train with the staff as well as the power? I do not see many with visible weapons, of course that may just be when they are around me." Her gaze returns to his face, curiosity evident upon her ageless features. 

Cathbad shakes his head briefly. "I do not, but as I am not yet even a Soldier, there are many things I am not aware of. I've just used it as a walking aid." With a smirk, he adds, "I do not mind questions. For without inquiry and examination, progress tends to languish," smiling fondly at the expression.

Aalaryn seems to realize that she had been holding Cathbad's hand still and gently withdraws her hand, Light knows that what is seen is often different than what has really occured and she does not want to bring any trouble to him. "Very true words," she draws her hair over her left shoulder causing the bells to softly chime again, "I ask because I had learned to use the staff when I was younger, my father insisted I have some manner of physical defense. I am greatly out of practice though."

Cathbad looks down at his now-empty hand with a small amount of amusement. Turning his grey-blue eyes to her, he listens paitiently. "When I was young, I suffered an injury, and now," taking another breath, "I use my staff to walk more normally. I might be able to mount a small defense with my staff, but against someone skilled, I would not be any match." He leaves it unsaid that the One Power could make a significant diference in that.

For as much as she has tried not to pry earlier the temptation is far too great now. She has some knowledge in healing, of course that's involving the power mainly but she had entertained the thought of becoming a Yellow at one point. If only a star could change its location in the sky. "What happened?" At least Aalaryn is more at ease and not bouncing between the Aes Sedai mentality and the cowering mouse this time. 

Cathbad looks appologetically to Aalaryn, and says, "Please excuse the vagueness," he says before clearing his throat, "An outside war came to my home, and I... foolishly joined in when I did not need to. I suffered an injury," switching his staff to his other hand, he places his staff hand upon the side of his hip. "It did not heal well. Walking after that has been painful, with less mobility than I once had." He sighs and says, "There is not much more than can be done, which has not already been attempted. The injury is old."

Aalaryn nods slowly as you explain. "I am sorry. It still gives you pain to this day?" The Red sounds very concerned, she gestures towards the place that he had once been seated in hoping that he would sit once again. She returns to her spot on the grass, drawing the basket of linen nearer to her to keep it out of the way and to rather idly fiddle with the clean sheets within.

Cathbad shrugs, "It... is much more muted now. I have become accustomed to ignoring it." Returning his staff to his proper hand, he then lowers himself gently onto the seat and leans the staff against the wall behind him. His hands return to casual spots near his knees. He looks curiously to Aalaryn's hands. "I do not think that if I was taken from my former life without choosing it, that I could find the happiness you show in these mundane tasks."

It appears that she's actually checking the stitching in along the seams of the sheet that is folded at the top of the basket. The chores might be rather mundane and boring, and light knows how dull laundry is, she does seem to take pride in her work. Though one thing seems out of place. The finger where she usually wears her great serpent ring is ringless. "At first I had to learn to find happiness in them, and to be completely honest," as if she could be less than fully honest, "there are times I detest them." [Aalaryn]

Cathbad nods at her words, then notes the absence of the ring, his eyes widening slightly. "What happened to your ring?", he asks with shock. "Did one of the men take it?", after he asks, he runs through a couple of likely suspects... none of which he could accuse as they all outrank him. With a grit of his teeth, the thought crosses his mind, 'every man here outranks me,' but he keeps this to himself.

"No," just as she answers she spots a loose thread which evokes a disgusted sigh from her lips. She stands up, the sheet in hand, and reaches into the small pocket in her skirts and draws out a small pair of scissors that look even older than she's admitted to being, rust can be seen but they seem to do their job. "I really don't have use for it," she continues working at snipping off the loose ends of the thread. "If they have then I do not know, but that would mean they'd have to actually enter my little cottage, of which I have never seen happen nor do I forsee it occurring either." She is after all a wicked Witch of Tar Valon. Once the errant thread is taken care of she slips the scissors back into her pocket and flips the sheet open with a snap of her wrists and proceeds to refolding it. 

Cathbad narrows his eyes slightly, certain there is something big being left unsaid. "I would understand if it was just that you decided not to wear it, as it would serve as a seperation between yourself and the others. Just as I came here in an outfit which did not announce I was an Illuminator," he says with a sigh.

Aalaryn glances to Cathbad over the sheet she is folding up. "don't give me that look," she sighs, the sheet now folded up she places it back in the basket, "I know I am not ever going to return to Tar Valon and it is not as if I can make myself look like something other than I am," she refers to her face. Shrugging a bit she looks back to the patch of grass and resumes her seat. Again, just like clockwork or some kind of Tower-taught OCD she arranges her skirts once again, "I have chosen not to wear it today but also it is reserved for a much more meaningful purpose."

Cathbad smirks, his thoughts on an alternate purpose vindicated, though he then frowns again. "You... can't be certain you'll never leave this place," almost exasperated. "Even I'll be going out for a week soon, and others come and go as they please." He must be referring to the higher-ranked Asha'man, and concerned for his own ability to come and go. "Light, with those... openings, it would take one made to the right place, and one could be back there with but a few steps." "I'm sure there is some way they could trust you," he says fervantly.

Aalaryn's smile, while sincere, is somewhat sad. She gently shakes her head no causing her hair to fall off of her shoulder and hang down her back once again, the bells chime softly. "And I hope that you can go for your week, you've worked hard and the change of scenery, even if you are still tasked to train, can be very beneficial. I however know without a doubt I will remain here until either an Asha'man takes me away," she knows the spike is around some place nearby, "or the Lord Dragon decides that I should go or be allowed to leave." She falls silent in contemplation, should she explain the nature of her restriction? "You see," she has decided to do so, "when I came to the Black Tower I had interupted a ceremony for Asha'man Tiernan," she sighs as she cannot remember his last name, "and by tresspassing into the lands of the Tower my life became theirs."

Cathbad winces, almost entirely througout her speech, looking sorrowfully to Aalaryn. "If your life is theirs, I'm sure they will not let it go to waste as the Last Battle draws ever closer. They just need to be certain they can trust you," he says as his voice trails off. "There are ways to do that. We just need to find one of them." We, yes, he is volunteering himself in this conspiracy to restore Aalaryn's mobility.

"Well, I am at a loss as to what I can do," Aalaryn begins, "If you can think of something I would love to hear it but please, do not endanger yourself or your training." She lifts her eyes to gaze upon your face, her expression quite serious, "There are lifetimes of wrongs that the Red Ajah has done upon men who channel, and even more that they have done to the Lord Dragon himself." What? "I know what they did.. Elaida wanted to keep him, to control him.." she looks down, ashamed of what happened and not wanting to see the expression which is of concern change to one of hatred. "They bragged that they stuffed him in a trunk, how can a person do that to another living person? I was exiled from the Tower and held at our Farm," the White Tower has a farm too? "I lived for months with a shield in place, treated like a dog, for speaking against her orders and I was not even there when these things ocurred. It wasn't until Elaida was deposed that I was released."

Aalaryn rises to her feet, the basket in her hands. She props the basket against her left hip looking very much like the farm wives, "I hate to leave you like this but," she gestures to the laundry, "if I do not put these where they belong Nell will come after me with a switch and I don't much enjoy the idea of her wielding anything, especially if it's coming towards me." Yeah, Nell's strong and just always sour to everyone. She slips inside the barracks and places the clean, neatly folded sheets in their cabinent. When she returns the basket is almost overflowing with dirty linens, again it is propped against her hip. "There, now you can have clean sheets to sleep in." She smiles warmly, where her dour mood went is hard to say, maybe her chores -do- help her to cope.


	9. Summons and Deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some time has passed since Aalaryn was around Tiernan.

Having been gone from the Black Tower for quite some time, Tiernan returns quietly to the home of the Dragon Reborn's army of male channelers, finally moving his belongings out of the barracks and into to the cabin set aside for him upon his promotion. Once his business is settled, his reports filed, and his subordinates debriefed, the prodigal Rahien takes it upon himself to check up on the little bit of unfinished business he left behind when he went on his sabbatical. A Soldier is sent to fetch the collared Red and bring her to the young Kandori's new place. He sets out a bottle of white rose mead - a light, exotic brew not usually found in these parts - and removes his stark black jacket and sword belt, leaving him in a light linen shirt and tailored black trousers. Patiently waiting for Aalaryn to arrive as per her summons, Tiernan relaxes casually in one of the comfortable, if not overly plush, armchairs, a thoughtful grin on his face. 

Aalaryn was in the middle of washing linens for the bunk house when a Soldier showed up and informed her that her presence was required. As the laundry was growing on her nerves anyways the Arafellin woman complies, leaving the work for a later time. She follows quickly, not wanting to make anyone wait more than they have to. When she's led to one of the cabins she glances to the Soldier quizzically but continues on, curious but holding her tongue. The door opens and she finally walks in looking even less like the Aes Sedai she was when she arrived and more like a farm girl. "You summoned me?" her tone is respectful.

Tiernan looks up at the door as it swings open to reveal the Aes Sedai in her decidedly less classy dress. He gives her a small, quiet chuckle as he waves her in and nods to release the Soldier outside the door. "Yes, I did." His manner is calmer, more balanced, than it had been the last time the two found themselves together, and whenever Aalaryn has come into the front room of his new home and closed off the outside world, he gestures to the space at large. "Take a seat, please," he invites, allowing her to pick which seat to take. There are several to choose from - any of the four around the small circular dining table, the other comfortable armchair, or any space on the long couch against the wall.

Aalaryn selects one of the rather plain and more functional chairs at the dining room table. "Thank you," she inclines her head in a nod to Tiernan as she sits down and smooths her skirts a bit before resting her hands lightly upon the face of the table. Uncertain of what to say the Red sits quietly.

As Aalaryn arranges herself, Tiernan keeps his green eyes on her, the thoughtful smile still resting on his face. He does not keep the woman in suspense, starting in on the reason for this visit as soon as she is settled. Staying in his comfortable armchair, the Rahien props his right ankle on his left knee and gestures casually with his hands as he talks. "We didn't get off to the best start," he begins, the understatement sparking a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "I thought we could try again, and maybe get you doing something more useful than gardening." 

Aalaryn raises a hand to stifle the chuckle that was about to rush out. "All things considered, Asha'man Laoranth," she's actually using proper titles now, "I feel that if I were in your position I may have reacted similarly." Her words are calm but she's not exactly calm, though the woman is making a good show of it. More useful than gardening.. what under the Light does that mean? "If there is something else that you would have me do," she gives a nod, "then please tell me."

Tiernan waves away the Red's question. "We'll get to that," he answers with casual indifference. "Aalaryn - may I call you Aalaryn?," and though he asks, he only pauses long enough for a nod as an answer, "you said you came here to learn about the Asha'man. You've been here a little while now. What have you learned?" Tilting his head curiously, the Rahien watches the Red at his new dining room table, his expression calm and even a little friendly, despite the brief, shaky past between them.

Aalaryn watches the Rahien curiously, "Yes, you may." The Red draws her hands down into her lap and instinctively her fingers move to fidget with the ring that is not there. "I have learned a good deal, or what I would consider to be as such," she begins to explain, "I find that the training that is done with the power and the body makes more sense, though I was at first shocked with how often the power is used for simple tasks. I have also learned that even with good intentions the past is not so easily changed." This said she looks down for a moment, drawing in a slow breath as she prepares for her next statement, "I know what happened. How -the others-," she places emphasis on the words the others, "treated Him. I was not there and if I was I may not have been able to be here. The other Reds, in Caemlyn, be careful of them."

Tiernan listens quite attentively, nodding vaguely at appropriate points. Though the Rahien's green eyes harden very slightly as Aalaryn brings up the Dragon Reborn's... unfortunate... encounter with his former kidnappers, the look passes quickly. He answers her final thought with a quiet chuckle. "You don't have to tell -me- that," he assures her, standing from his lounged position to cross to the table at which she has seated herself. His steps are casual and relaxed, and as he continues, he reaches out to take up the bottle of mead and pour them both a cup. "The White Tower trains much more slowly, using the Power rarely, from my understanding." Handing her a glass of the white rose mead, he looks more like a colleague than a captor. "Do you think that way is better?" As he listens, he sips his drink, leaning his free hand on the back of the chair next to hers.

Aalaryn accepts the glass offered to her, "Thank you," and lifts it up so that she may smell the mead. When she does a smile forms upon her lips and she takes a small sip, closing her eyes and truly savoring the delicate flavor of the whtie rose mead. It is a minute or two before she speaks, the glass held gingerly in her hands as if it could shatter at any time, "I think that the method of training that the White Tower employs is adequate but in ways it is lacking," she glances over to Tiernan, "It would make sense for a Green Sister to train physically so that she could work with her Warders better and she would be able to defend herself if they were to fall," the temptation of the mead is great and she takes another small sip before adding, "and many Sedai become accustomed to creature comforts and take on servants when they could move themselves and have the same outcome." There are a few plump Aes Sedai who could use some physical activity, she is just not naming names. "But the way that these men train, they will know what they are capable of right away instead of waiting years to discover their talents."

Though the exotic bouquet of his mead is not new to him, Tiernan nonetheless quite enjoys it - and there's a whole bottle on the table - so he does not bother to hide or moderate his intake, drinking it decorously, but with relish. He nods at her assessment. "I would agree with that," he says thoughtfully. Remaining standing at the chair nearest the Aes Sedai, he leans casually against it, looking down at the seated Red. "What exactly were you looking to learn when you first set out for the Black Tower?" Though she has answered this question before, it hasn't been - so far as Tiernan knows - asked so genially, or with such apparently earnest interest. 

"Understanding." She watches the light dance through the mead in her glass for a moment before turning her attention back to Tiernan fully. "What we know and understand is ancient and the White Tower is not taking steps forward. I understand the need for tradition, I truly do, but if we cling so tightly to the past then we cannot dream to step forward." Aalaryn gently sets her glass on the table and shifts slightly to face Tiernan more directly, she's more at ease as well, "I wanted to understand how Saidin felt to you, how it is to wield the power and I have learned that. For us Saidar is a river that we surrender to so that we may control it, so opposite of how I have been explained of the nature of Saidin. If I could understand even the slightest bit of these things then maybe," her expression becomes quite serious, "simply put since the taint is gone, which is a miracle, there must be a method to remove the ill effects of the taint from those who suffer its touch." 

With Aalaryn less tense, Tiernan pulls out the chair he has been leaning against and straddles it with the back in front, leaning his forearms along the top bar. His expression is focused, but his green eyes are still warm and friendly, his manner entirely calm. "Do you have that sort of superior skill in Healing? Isn't that normally something reserved for Yellows?" Taking another drink of his mead as he waits for her answer, the young Kandori then refills his glass and sets the bottle down near the Aes Sedai in case she wants a top-off.

Aalaryn gives a nod of her head, "It would be, I have some skill in Healing but not to the level that would be needed though." They agree on something. It is a start. "But why haven't they begun to think of this? I would think that they'd have been here long before me to see if there was anything that they could do." Her glass is not as empty as his, at least not yet, though she does lift it to her lips to take another sip.

A blithe shrug answers Aalaryn's final comment, as Tiernan's mouth is busy taking another drink of his mead when she falls silent. Swallowing that, he says, "I think thousands of years of tradition has taught the Aes Sedai -not- to think. Especially about Saidin, except how to purge those who use it." This is not, perhaps surprisingly, said maliciously or as judgment. His eyes look over at her, curious, calm, and unblinking. "Do you think of yourself as different, or separate, from the others - the other Reds, that is?" 

That chuckle that she tried to contain earlier finally makes its way out and the look of shock and abject horror that passes across her ageless might even be amusing. Trying to recover she takes a sip of the mead so that way she can't just comment without putting thought behind it, things are going well and she needed muck things up. Lowering the glass from her lips slowly she sighs softly, "Light, I am sorry. Your question was honest and," she sets the glass down for the moment blaming the mead in her mind, "... to answer your question, I am different, even moreso now." 

Tiernan cocks a small grin as Aalaryn tries to hold back her chuckle, but he waits for her to compose herself as she will and give an answer. "So why are you a Red, Aalaryn? You clearly weren't made Aes Sedai the day before you got here, so you weren't looking to cure taint madness when you set your feet on that path." Tilting his head curiously, the Rahien leans forward in his chair a little bit as he looks over at the woman. He doesn't seem to understand that this might be quite a personal question, as selection of an Asha'man's talon is about traits and abilities more than motivation and past.

Aalaryn gives a small shake of her head, "No, I wasn't. That was some one hundred sixteen years ago." Okay so we know she's at least that old. She slips into thought, seriously giving the question consideration. "I have always been strongest in spirit," she doesn't seem to mind explaining her decision, "considered bull-headed and fearless by a few," mainly the Mistress of Novices, "I didn't have the talent to Heal like the Yellows do and, I don't like being confined in Tar Valon, books are nice but they can be a little stuffy." She pauses, hesitating before speaking, "I don't know if I chose or if I was indoctrinated, the Red Ajah does recruit some and I think they thought of me as a project as I often found my way to the sparring yards to speak with the trainees, that they could take my like of men away." What? "I honestly wanted to help people to keep them safe, I thought that by becoming a Red I could do that." She lifts her glass and takes a healthy drink as if her words soured in her very mouth as she spoke them. "Reds didn't used to hunt down men with the talent, we used to manage the mis-use of the power."

Listening without interruption, Tiernan waits until she is done, then purses his lips and looks down into his glass, held between both hands above the back of his chair. "Alright, fine." His voice is more resigned than anything, but there is no malice or anger in it. Placing his cup of mead back on the table, the Rahien folds his hands together and looks seriously at the Aes Sedai. "I'll be honest with you, Aalaryn. I don't trust you, but that's because you're an Aes Sedai, and a Red, not because you yourself have given me cause. You have thus far obeyed your oaths, and you've taken to being powerless," he references her collar with a flicker of his intent green eyes, "better than I thought you would." A grin cocks the right side of his mouth up. "Maybe there's something to that whole surrendering thing you do." The grin dwindles back to leave the young Asha'man looking thoughtful. "How do you think you - you personally, Aalaryn Rouskova - could best help people and keep them safe, if you had no restrictions on you at all - not from us, and not from the White Tower?" 

Aalaryn never truly expected anyone to trust her fully, but she had hoped that she had earned some. "It is hard to not touch saidar," she looks down at her hands, "especially when the children get hurt while at play." No restrictions from the White Tower? What is he implying, "I am not certain what you mean as to no restrictions from the White Tower, Tiernan?" she speaks your name slowly, almost an implied askance if she may address you in such a manner. "I've been learning herbs and how they can be used to help heal illness, but on a grander scale, if I am to serve the Lord Dragon, I had most likely learn how to defend those who cannot fight for themselves, to educate people that the Asha'man are not monsters, that men with the Power are not monsters."

Tiernan opens his hands in a small shrug. "I mean if you had no oaths restricting you at all. No promises to keep, no restraints binding you, no higher force keeping you from enacting whatever goals you set for yourself." To him, this is clearly a simple question. "What would you do, freed of all those with only your own skills, talents, power, and ethics to guide you?"

Aalaryn had never thought of her life without the Three Oaths until now. "I had never even entertained the thought," she takes a sip of her mead and upon lowering the glass from her lips she adds, "I was prepared to live as a Wisdom here and help as I could. Honesty is something that should remain a part of life, oath bound or not. The Lord Dragon's designs are mine, if he has something he wishes done," she looks to Tiernan as he was there when these things happened, "then it is my duty to follow through. If I did not wish to serve I would not have sworn."

With a soft chuckle, Tiernan nods and hoists himself up from his seat, swinging one leg over it and sliding the chair under the table with his foot. "Fair enough," he says. He looks down on the collared Red for a long moment, inspecting her calmly. "Tell you what - you can use the One Power only to Heal, and only in the event that a child gets hurt and there are no Asha'man, Dedicated, or Soldiers around to do the Healing." He holds his hand out toward her in a polite offer to help her stand from her chair - this little meeting is clearly wrapping up. "How does that sound?" 

"I think that is more than fair," she accepts his hand and rises from her seat, "and I thank you for allowing me to earn your trust." Once Aalaryn is standing she does bob a polite curtsey to the Asha'man, but it's not a curtsey of a servant it a curtsey of respect. 

Tiernan returns her polite curtsey with a nod. "You're welcome, Aes Sedai," and the title he gives her is, for once, said with its own kind of respect - that of a measure of equality. "At least in that I can be swayed. I'm a Healer myself," he shares with a smile, moving past her to the door. "I hate to think of any of our own being hurt and being at all responsible for them not being able to seek a remedy. In this, at least, our interests line up." He opens the door and gestures chivalrously. "Light bless you, Aalaryn." So they're not best friends, but at least the Rahien didn't try to terrify her.

Aalaryn's lips form a smile. "And may the Light bless you, Tiernan." She entered the meeting with a bit of fear but she leaves calm and happy. It's not until she's left from his residence and heading back to her own that she groans, remembering the bloody laundry she left behind. "Oh bloody ashes," she turns around and heads back to the wash basin, rolling her eyes and looking very much like a farm wife.


	10. After the Summons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After she was summoned to speak with Tiernan she went back to her chores, more laundry.

It is just a little odd when someone is humming while hanging up laundry but that's exactly what Aalaryn is doing. The very full basket of dirty linens she retrieved from the bunk house is now being hung up on the line. The tune is Tinker in the Kitchen. Once the final sheet is hanging the Arafellin moves to sit beneath the tree, humming still as she unwraps bread and cheese.

Cathbad, having been at a loss to comment on all what was said at the end of their last meeting, now looks toward Aalaryn with sympathy and a little sorrow. His expression turns quizical as he tries to reconcile the lively tune being hummed and what she had told him. Approaching her, Cathbad inquires, "Is... everything okay?" He leans on his staff with both hands as he awaits her reply.

Aalaryn blinks a few times and upon seeing Cathbad there she smiles warmly to him. "Care to join me?" gesturing to the food she's begun to portion up it must be snack time, "I have plenty." She watches him for a moment before adding, "I assure you, I am fine. Please, sit with me." She rises and grabs the stool she had been using to hang the sheets up and brings it over so that you can sit easier. Once it's in place however she returns to her soft spot on the grass.

Cathbad looks down to Aalaryn and the stool. "If it's all the same to you," he says lowering himself to the ground, "sitting on the ground is... better," moving the stool out of their way. "I am honored to sit with you, and to enjoy your company," nodding slowly as if a bow. "I take it... you are in better spirits than last we spoke?", concern in his voice as well as hesitation.

The Arafellin offers a nod in response as she's popped a bite of bread in her mouth, "mm-hmm" is the best verbal response she can make at the moment. As the stool is not being used she moves it closer and turns it into a little table, the bread and cheese on it's cloth and then she has a small jug that she opens up and pours its contents in to a wooden mug. Apple cider! Lifing the cup to her lips she takes a drink and is at last finally able to talk when she lowers the cup and offers it to you. "I am, yes. I would not have thought I would be, considering who had summoned me."

Cathbad raises an eyebrow as he lays his staff down behind him, away from the two. He takes a sip from the wooden mug, and setting it back down upon the makeshift table. "I... did not catch who it was required your attention," he says in an offhanded comment. After a pause, he smiles wryly to the Sedai, doing her word weaving. "I'm sure you'll say who it was, and why your mood is much improved," smirking at the last. He pulls off a small piece of bread, biting off a bit and awaits her response as he chews.

A conspiratory chuckle slips past her lips. "Oh I will, will I?" She winks at you, "How are you so certain?" Lifing the jug of cider Aalaryn refills the cup and rests the jug by the little table that they've set. She plays as if she is going to keep her secret secret and all to herself as she picks up a bit of cheese and nibbles on it, watching the Illuminator from the corner of her eye. Once the cheese is gone, little mouse girl that she is, the Arafellin finally shares her secret. "Tiernan," her attention back upon you watching your reaction. 

With eyes slightly narrowed and a smirk about his mouth, Cathbad remains quiet as he chews his bread. "Because, otherwise you would not have commented in such a way. Unless... you were deliberately trying to bait a response." Letting out a chuckle, he listens to her speak the name of the man who tried to torture his block away, and his face goes cold. Not emotionless, but icy with restrained rage. "Him?", he asks loudly, then in a more measured volume, but no less cold, "What did he want?" [Cathbad]

Aalaryn reaches out to gently place her hand on your knee, "I am serious," the mirth from her voice is gone, "and I was terrified. The last time I was in the same room with him," she shakes her head sending the bells into their chiming song, "He scares me, but we had a civil conversation." She takes up the cup and lifts it to her lips, her gaze going distant for a moment as she remembers how he touched her neck and ordered her to sleep in a coffin. Once the cup is lowered it comes to rest on the face of the make shift table. "I do not know what he means to do, if he plays with words or if he truly meant what he said."

Cathbad frowns, then nods, and regains his composure. "Well," he begins, thoughtfully, "If you want my opinion on what he said, you'll have to share them." The cold frown that temporarily mars his face as he looks away, might indicate something unsaid. Offering a smile to Aalaryn, "At least you survived talking to him intact?", he inquires with hope.

"What happened? I know that look," Aalaryn hasn't taken her eyes off of you since she had put the cup on the stool. Knowing that sharing is a two way street she decides to open up and share her experience with the Rahien today. "He summoned me to his home, offered me mead, and began by saying that he felt we had gotten off to a wrong start. That I had taken to being 'powerless' better than expected," she rolls her eyes, the fire starting to creep into her voice as she speaks about the man, "and while I understand the reasonings behind why things are as they are for me, and I told him this," she heaves a sigh and puts back the bit of bread she had picked up, "it's just very exasperating. What did I learn? Which method of training do I find better?" She shakes her head, "it goes on from there." 

Aalaryn continues, "But, the thing that really surprised me is this," the Red shifts so that she is sitting closer to you and the volume of her voice drops considerably so that no one else can overhear, "He asked me why I am a Red and then he asked," she closes her eyes, recalling his exact words, "and I quote 'How do you think you - you personally, Aalaryn Rouskova - could best help people and keep them safe, if you had no restrictions on you at all - not from us, and not from the White Tower?' And when I asked him what he meant by that, if I was not held by -any- oaths, what would I do." 

Cathbad nods absently at the first half of what she said, then leans in for the conspiratorial quoting of Tiernan. At its end, Cathbad's eyes go wide and his jaw slack, words failing him. Tilting his head to the side, he looks inquisitively at the one-time Sedai, uncertain of just what to say to that. He begins to speak, but then winces and look away. His gaze returning, Cathbad open his mouth to speak, and yet does not for the moment, mulling over words.

Aalaryn rather expected that kind of reaction. "That's what I went through, the initial shock of it all. The only way I'd not be bound by my Oaths I swore when I was raised to be Aes Sedai is if I were stilled or I burned out and managed to survive. Neither of which do I want to attempt." She picks up that piece of bread again and tears off a bite, "however, I can at least channel now but only in an emergency situation and only to heal if no other Soldier of Asha'man is around. I saw one of the children get hurt badly the other day and it tore my heart out that all I could do is bring over herbs to help with the swelling."

Cathbad nods and offers a hopeful smile to Aalaryn. Strange that he would feel more comfortable with a Red Ajah Sedai than with many of those who, if things go well, he will call brother. Shivering at the thought, Cathbad reaches out to put a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a slight squeeze of reassurance before withdrawing it. "Are... darkfriend Aes Sedai still bound by the Oaths they swore when raised?", he asks warily. "Could it be that a ter'angreal was found which negates Oaths sworn?"

Aalaryn leans over and rests her head upon Cathbad's shoulder. "I... I really do not know. I would assume not as," her voice drops to a whisper, :Mother has had any and all Black Ajah executed, she somehow found a way to find them and removed them so the Shining Walls are truly safe once again." Aalaryn shivers slightly at the thought and is quite thankful that she is far away from what she once called home. "Is it strange that I feel safer here?"

Cathbad shrugs slightly, "Well, they're quite vigilant about anyone who has channeling experience before coming here, and about ones who learn too quickly. Also, this place is new, and it'd be hard to sink hooks here, when one slip up would likely get you killed." Shuddering, he adds, "I... don't know why anyone would feel truly safe in Tar Valon. After all, Daes Dae'mar was born there, was it not?"

Aalaryn's head remains upon Cathbad's shoulder. "Cairhien actually," she gives the date and a brief little lesson on it. After she's done she laughs a little, "I am so sorry. It's like I just naturally spew out history." Her cheeks actually have filled with a blush but at least she's getting back to her better mood. "I feel safer here because, and you can laugh, I know that there are no veiled words with double meanings. That if any army would ever want to attack this place, Light they knew I was here by my third step past the gate." Her lips quirk into a grin, "and you've got that staff that I can snatch up and beat people with while you throw power wrought lightning upon them." Yeah, sounds a lot like its out of a story but the possibility is quite true.

Cathbad smirks, having actually been shown how to weave Lightning already. "If I could pull the right materials out of the ground, there's even more I could do than that," chuckling a bit. "I'm glad you feel safe here," he says reaching out to hesitantly pat the Sedai on the back. "And," he says as if an order, "Don't be apologetic for remembering history. It's important to preserve memories of things, especially important things, and books are a very good way to do so."

Aalaryn leans forward slightly and takes the cider cup from the table, before raising it to her lips she glances to you, "Thank you for understanding about my history habit." She chuckles a little, because she knows how often she'd fallen asleep in the Great Library of the White Tower when she was an Accepted, and then lifts the cup to her lips.

Cathbad inquisitively asks, "Did any books there talk of the previous Breaking? Apart from the Channeling. About those who lived back then, or any knowledge from then that'd apply here and now?" Waiting for Aalaryn to be done with the cub, he reaches out to take it from her hands and up to his own lips. He looks across it to Aalaryn's face, a soft smile on his face.

The instant she lowers the cup from her lips it's in his hands, "Hey.." she teases, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "Oh yes," she nods sending the bells in her hair to sing again, "but only from the perspective of the White Tower. I never found the histories from the other nations, there are a lot of tomes," tomes she said, "and even if I never left the Library I would never get through them all before my life ended." 

Cathbad chuckles a bit. "And yet, if you attempted to do so, there would be no being out in the world." He looks her in the eye and sets the mug down. "Well, as much fun as that is, let us just enjoy this time here. With that, Cathbad looks up to the sky and takes in a breath, letting out a soft sigh.

Aalaryn lifts the jug and refills the mug, he took the silly thing but it was empty! She passes the mug back to him with a smile, "I like books," she lifts her shoulders in a shrug, "and oddly enough sitting in the grass." She picks up a piece of cheese and acts as if she is about to eat it before mischief occurs, just before Cathbad closes his mouth from his sigh she breaks a bit of the cheese off and if not stopped by him, she pops it into his mouth with a laugh.

While not choking from the cheese, this man is obviously shocked and taken aback. Chewing it, while eyeing Aalaryn, Cathbad smirk. "Light," he says amusedly, "Next you'll be telling me either you like rooms full of bubbling beakers, working with deadly fumes, or the kitchens," though the last is just more a personal preference for delicious food. He stiffens up slightly, trying to keep in mind that she is more than a centurary his elder, but he is mostly seeing a woman in an impossible situation, making the best of it and enjoying herself. 

"And what is wrong with liking to work in a kitchen?" she pokes at his chest, "I didn't see you turning down pie." Aalaryn might be older but she doesn't feel it, in fact if it were not for her ageless face she looks like the furthest thing from an Aes Sedai. "I find cooking quite relaxing actually, you just wait until there's berries." That said she rests her head back on his shoulder, content to enjoy the moment.


	11. Requests

At Tiernan's gesture, Kiziel moves to take the other seat at the man's table, nodding to accept the other's offer. "The Aiel? You'll have to tell me about that. If you aren't too busy with paperwork, of course." The Far Madder makes a vague motion towards the collected papers at that, settling into his seat comfortably and letting his gaze sweep around the room once more, taking in the little modifications and customizations the newly minted Asha'man made to the room. [Kiziel]

A knock can be heard at the door of the cabin. Aalaryn stands there with a rather tall Dedicated wearing a sour frown on his face. In her arms is a long length of heavy fabric folded over many times. She's carrying it and he's being a sour, walking wall. [Aalaryn]

Tiernan leans back in his chair, leaving the reports where they lie, stacked in two short, ordered piles. With a light chuckle, the Rahien takes another sip of mulled wine and shakes his head. "No," he insists with a rueful smile. "Light send I am -never- too busy with paperwork." As he sets his cup down and opens his mouth again to answer Kiziel's inquiry, the knock at his door draws his gaze for the second time in as many minutes. "Yeeessss?" he calls - again - tacitly inviting whomever it is to enter freely.

Mouth opening to comment on Tiernan's words, Kiziel stops himself at the knock at the door, swiveling his head to look towards whomever might be coming in. He reaches one hand out, lifting the cup of mulled wine and bringing it to his lips to sip, then allowing an almost surprised "Mmm" to escape his lips before taking another drink. "This stuff isn't half bad, Tier. I don't know where you always find your supplies, but..." 

The Dedicated doesn't seem too happy to be here with 'the Red' but he opens the door and steps in before letting her walk in behind him. She gives him a look and then walks past carrying the fabric under her arm. He waits by the door, she disturbed him before dinner. "Oh," her steps slow significantly, "I didn't know you were entertaining. My request can wait." Aalaryn offers a sheepish smile. 

The sudden appearance of the the Red at his door does not - perhaps surprisingly - darken Tiernan's contented mood. "You're here now," he says genially, motioning her inside. He darts his green eyes past the Aes Sedai to her escort and gives him a man-nod to release him from his onerous task. "What can I do for you, Aalaryn?" Though Kiziel will be able to tell that the young Rahien is not being his effusively casual and friendly self, the neutrally cordial way he addresses Aalaryn is decidedly more positive than his prior attitude. 

Turning to look at Tiernan for a moment, Kiziel's eyebrows raise, but he says nothing at the red's words, instead letting a smile touch his lips - one he hopes is reassuring - as he turns his gaze back towards the Aes Sedai. "Please, I don't mind. This is a strictly social call." The Souvra'm'hael lets his pale green eyes scan over Aalaryn, taking in her new garb, her bearing, studying her carefully without just staring. And, with something of a start, the pale man realizes that he's still wearing his hat, pulling the sloped white and green garment, a complete contrast to the rest of his outfit, from his head, setting it on the table beside himself. [Kiziel]

Aalaryn nods graciously to both Kiziel and Tiernan, she knows she's interrupting their evening and that was not her intention. "How do I explain this?" She shifts the bundle in her arms and then looks at the floor for a moment as if she's gauging something. "Right then," the roll of fabric is places on the floor and she begins to untie it, "I need to get enough wood to properly hang this," there's colored threads, tiny knots.. it's the back of something as she continues to unfold it, eventually she kneels down to wrest the thing free of its cover, "or else I won't be able to finish it and then I'll quite likely go mad." The Red continues to unfurl the rug? tapestry? on the floor.

Tiernan turns in his chair more toward Aalaryn, looping his elbow over the back of it as he inspects her curiously while she fumbles with her length of cloth and concomitant request. He glances over at Kiziel for a moment, amused and puzzled at the same time, then turns his head back to the Red. Foregoing the easy entendre, the Rahien grins a bit and says, "You wouldn't be the first." The dark humor in his tone is not directed at the Aes Sedai, but Kiziel at least should recognize the coping mechanism for what it is. "And you need me to get you wood? Is that your request?"

Gazing curiously at Aalaryn's project, Kiziel eventually sets down his wine - after one more sip - so that he can rise and help the Aes Sedai unfold and unroll the cloth. Curiosity shows in his bright eyes as he works with the fabric, but he doesn't say anything at this point, instead allowing Tiernan to handle both the joking and the direct responses to the woman's questions. 

Aalaryn's face flushes red, she just made a comment about going insane in the absolutely wrong place. There's absolutely -no- class for recovery for that kind of thing in the White Tower and thus the ageless faced woman just hangs her head and lets her hair cover as much of her face from view as she can. "That would be wonderful," she leans back on her heels a bit to look at the tapestry, its face down so that only the knots and the like show. "Unless you have something stronger, a finished tapestry gets heavy."

As Kiziel crosses over to Aalaryn to help her unroll the tapestry onto his floor, Tiernan sneakily tops off the Souvra's cup from the jug of mulled wine, then does the same to his own cup, keeping half his attention on the Red as she blushes. "Actually," he responds somewhat more brightly, holding his empty hand toward the tall Far Madder, "Kiziel here could probably rig you up something stronger. But I can whistle up some planks for you if need be." Taking a drink, he keeps his gaze fixed gently but firmly on the little Sedai, expression just mildly curious, though he has not asked after what, exactly, the project entails. [Tiernan]

Turning to raise an eyebrow at Tiernan, Kiziel asks simply, "Why not stone?" The Asha'man stands slowly, gesturing down at the tapestry and adding, "I'm sure we could come up with something earthen to hold it up, without needing to tap into the lumber supplies. Wood requires harvesting, and is harder to channel into shape. Stone is easy." The Souvra walks back to his chair, picking up his cup of wine and taking another sip without apparently noticing that there is more in it than there was mere moments before. [Kiziel]

Aalaryn turns and looks up at the pair of Asha'man curiously, "I didn't think about stone, but.. wouldn't that be difficult to move from where I am working on this to where it might go when it is finished?" Her hair is now annoying to her an she moves to attempt to smooth it down and look at least the tiniest bit like a respectable woman... who is perched on the floor. Aes Sedai are seriously odd people.

Tiernan nods at Kiziel's idea, his eyebrows lifting toward his hairline as he smiles at the older man, his expression basically saying 'that was the idea'. At Aalaryn's question, he blinks, looking over at her for a long moment as if waiting for confirmation that it was a joke. When that doesn't come, he shakes his head a little, his expression faintly bewildered, and he leans forward to put elbows to knees. Holding his cup of mulled wine with both hands, the Rahien says, "Aalaryn, I could probably move this building if I didn't like where it sat. A little fabric and framework won't be a problem."

A quiet little laugh escapes Kiziel's lips at Aalaryn's question; for all that he tries to stifle it. He gestures at the building around them - the *stone* building - and then comments simply, "Stone is easy, Aes Sedai." He turns to nod his agreement at the Rahien before looking back to the Red. "Though whether it gets displayed will depend on what you have in mind for it. What's the design going to be?" 

Aalaryn sighs and closes her eyes. Normally she can speak but she also doesn't exactly go asking people for things either. Exhaling slowly she opens her eyes and looks at the pair of Asha'man before her. "I'll show you, but it's not finished..." she takes up the end nearest to her and then begins to move it towards Kiziel and Tiernan, the actual design is starting to show. The corner that is shown first appears to hold part of a dragon.. a black structure - ok that's the Tower - and people in black coats. "you can only embroider so many blouses before you want a project that can eat time.." and eat time it has.

Waiting without a change in his only-mildly curious expression, Tiernan sits back up and leans casually against the back of his chair, once more draping his arm over it. He looks down at the unfinished tapestry around the rim of his mug as he drinks, his gaze calmly, unreadably sliding over the stitching. "I would imagine," he says neutrally, in a tone that is almost entirely polite conversation rather than engaging dialogue. 

Kiziel chuckles at Aalaryn, nodding his head at the woman in understanding, despite having never embroidered a blouse in his life. As she shows the design on the tapestry, a look of comprehension touches his face, the Far Madder leaning in a little while he takes another sip of wine, eyes scanning over the unfinished work. "What do you plan for it to show eventually? Just the Asha'man and the Black Tower grounds?" There is genuine curiosity in the man's voice, and he does not take his eyes away from the design while asking, instead studying not just the image, but also the construction and how its formed.

Aalaryn shakes her head, "No there's more," she rises and walks to the other side and begins to move it back, "three windows, one panel," and lots of other tapestry making terms rattle out of her mouth before she stops and glances to the pair of you, "I hope that made sense, if you ever want to learn how to do this.." she then grins at the image of the Asha making quilts that pops into her head, "let me know." And now she's laughing. Back to the tapestry, the left side shows the White Tower, Aes Sedai.. normal Tar Valon stuff. The middle panel though is still mostly hidden.

For a few moments, Tiernan is more interested in Kiziel's reaction to the tapestry than he is in the work itself, watching the Souvra'm'hael with a casual smirk on his face. But he turns his gaze back to the Red as she answers the question posed to her, watching her as she bustles around the unwieldy fabric with the same light, lop-sided grin. "No thanks," he says with a chuckle at her offer. 

Chuckling softly, Kiziel also shakes his head gently. "While my thirst for knowledge knows no real bounds, I'm afraid I just can't foresee having the time." He sighs, shaking his head once more, a little more definitively at that notion. He takes another sip of wine, gesturing over towards Tiernan and muttering, "Just ask him what happens when they start deciding you're someone who needs to do paperwork..." 

Aalaryn's lips curve into an amused smile, "Oh? Calligraphy.. I can teach that too," she seems to be enjoying this. Finally she has the last bit of the tapestry laying down, it's face visible to two new persons. "As I said, this isn't quite done," she's rather trapped against the side of the table unless she wants to walk across her creation or clamber up on the table so she stands perfectly still, her hands coming to rest on her hips. "I have details to add in but.. for that I really need to hang it."

Tiernan snorts at Kiziel ruefully, his gaze dropping to his short stack of paperwork. Almost as an aside he answers the Souvra's mention. "Only doing this because I've been gone. They're not sticking me at a desk," he assures his tale, blond friend. Without looking back to the Aes Sedai, he switches back to the woman's question, redirecting it to Kiziel. "Think you could whip her up a frame for it? Maybe a collapsible one, if you feel like getting creative," he adds with a grin, covering it poorly with another drink of mulled wine.

Thinking on Aalaryn's request for a moment, Kiziel nods his head. "I'll come up with something. I can probably do a light and strong metal frame for you to hang it on, and support that one stone pillars sturdy enough to hold it up. Did you intend it to be displayed inside or out?" The Asha'man takes another drink of wine as he looks towards the Red for a moment, and then peers down into his drink, muttering, "Deep cups you have here, Tier..." 

As the men return to their friendly banter, Aalaryn begins the task of folding the thing back up which seems to be a little easier than unfolding it. "I would appreciate any help that can be given," she then recalls the question about where it is meant to be displayed, "Indoors is better, it can block light or cold winds.. outside in the elements it would fade badly." Once it is folded up to where she can begin to tie it together she sits down on her knees and begins to tie the cords quickly. 

Tiernan laughs quietly but openly at the poor Souvra and his bottomless cup. "Or maybe I'm just an excellent host," he offers in response to Kiziel's observation, reaching out to needlessly top of his own cup as example. "Speaking of. Aes Sedai, would you care for a drink?" Once again, the Rahien's tone is polite and affable enough, though not up to his usual standard of effusive geniality. But he is nonetheless clearly making an effort, and his offer to the woman is sincere.

Peering over at Tiernan at the man's laughter, Kiziel eventually realizes what the other man has done and adds his own rueful chuckle. "I really should've known." Still, after he shakes his head once more, he does take another drink of the mulled drink, a somewhat deeper one this time, as though to compensate for the additional liquid the other man added. He turns to Aalaryn after that, asking, "Did you have somewhere in mind? I don't see an issue with it, but indoors in the Black Tower itself, the M'Hael might take askance to the notion. One of the barracks of mess halls might work nicely, though." 

Aalaryn finishes tying up the last of the tethers and leans back, "Wherever there is room for it, really." Then she considers Tiernan's offer. "I've taken up a great deal of your time already, I couldn't possibly," she responds a little quickly, feeling on the spot, "but thank you for the offer." The Red double checks the ties for a moment, using the action to just breathe and be human again.

Tiernan nods in happy agreement with Kiziel's initial statement because, come on, he really should have known. Turning up a third cup from the small serving tray acting as centerpiece, the Kandori is about to fill it when Aalaryn demures. "Suit yourself." He sets the jug - somewhat lighter for the evening's entertainment - back onto the tray. Turning back to face her directly, Tiernan tries to make his voice not sound terribly dismissive as he asks, "Was there anything else you needed?"

Settling into his seat, Kiziel nods his head at Aalaryn, not speaking again, but allowing his gaze to travel back and forth from Red to Rahien. There is a thoughtful cast to his features, and as he takes another slow drink of the wine, he lets out a quiet vocalization of wordless thought. And then he tilts his head to the side, apparently beginning to lose himself down the path that thought took. 

Aalaryn lifts up the tapestry slowly; when it's folded up and tied it is definitely easier to manage. Shifting the bundle to rest against her left hip, yeah she's spent some time at the farm because when she first got here she had no idea how to hold things like that, she regards Kiziel and Teirnan respectfully. She shakes her head, "Aside from a hand with the door," she glances and sees that the dedicated who escorted her here is indeed gone, "I am very well. Thank you for your help with my project and for allowing me to help when I can." She curtsies respectfully as she can with her arms full.

Tiernan stands smoothly and saunters past the Aes Sedai with a small grin on his face. "But of course," he says. He sweeps the door open and nods at her politely, not making a mockery of chivalry with any grandiose gestures, simply allowing her easy egress from his little house. "Light bless you, Aes Sedai." Unconcerned that her escort buggered off, he adds with a light twinkle in his eyes, "I'm sure you can find your way home."

Smiling a little as he comes out of his reverie, Kiziel nods politely towards Aalaryn without standing, saying a simple, "Aes Sedai," as the woman heads out. He pauses just for a moment before adding, "Give me a day or so, I'll see if I can come up with a frame for you to work with." And then he cocks his head once more, eyes growing distant as he begins work on that particular mental project. 

"Thank you." She slips past Tiernan, grateful that he's holding the door open. "Light keep you both, and again I apologize for interrupting your evening." She turns nodding to each of the Asha'man before turning to head back down the path and eventually ending up at her own cottage.


	12. Cathbad is hurt and Aalaryn comes to his aid

Cathbad, heading back on the route from the Practice Yard to the Bunkhouse, hobbles as he makes progress, clutching his staff with both hands, as he sticks it into the ground ahead of him, and pulls himself forward. Sweat rolls down the man's brow, his hair slicked down by the effort he has put forth. Clenched teeth and a determined look seem to be willing him forward, more than his weary muscles. With each step, he forces a deep inhale, letting it out in a huff after each span.

Aalaryn had actually managed to finish her tasks early today, which is a first. She is outside drawing water up from the well sheshe spots Cathbad. Taking note of his pace and appearance she nods and then grabs the small bucket and hurries over, the water sloshing a bit over the top. "Cathbad!" the Arafellin calls, her bells singing as she trots over to him, "Wait a moment!"

Coming to a stop, the exhausted former Illuminator, sags against the staff, both his hands clenched to it as he holds himself up, though unsteadily. In a gravelly voice, he says, "This'd better be good. I may not be able to hold myself here for long." With that, his good knee buckles slightly, before he straightens it again, the second part to holding him up after the staff. 

Aalaryn drops the bucket, so much for bringing him water, so that she can get there faster. When his good knee buckles she draws in a worried breath, "Light," she moves closer to him, putting an arm under his to help provide support, "what happened to you?"

Cathbad looks at Aalaryn with an exhausted face, accepting her help, and says "I have done all that I am able in practicing what I've learned," taking in a ragged breath. "I think I'd have a hard time lighting a candle, if I didn't have a striker," he smirks. A striker? That cannot be a flint & steel, can it? surely not a heated piece of wood, either? Maybe it's some Illuminator thing.

Aalaryn nods even though she has no idea what a striker is, but she figures it's best to not pester him with minute details right now. "You need to rest," she places her palm gently upon his forehead and then his cheeks, "and probably to eat." She frowns a bit, worried about him. "What are they trying to do?" She begins to help him towards the nearest seat which is her little cottage rather than the bunkhouse.

Cathbad follows along wherever Aalaryn leads him, thankful for the help. "They're trying to see how big I can make flows, and how long I can hold them," he croaks out before coughing for a few moments. He does not protest the diagnosis of rest and food, but he does request, "some water," once they reach her cottage. Upon getting there, he slumps down upon the seat, his staff lazily leaning to the side, still held in one hand.

Aalaryn's cottage is small but functional. It is different from the others, she has an actual stove and candles while the others do not. Grabbing one of the wooden mugs she has she pours the last of the water she'd had in the house into it. "Sorry it's not as cool," she apologizes as she hands it to him, once it's in his hand she grabs some bread and a jar of the jam that Anne had given her. "Eat this, I need to get more water." She then quickly moves outside to retrieve the bucket, refill it, and then bring it into the house.

Cathbad rationally knows exhaustion, but still has to force himself to only take sips of the water. The jammed bread, he quickly bites into, chewing it. After finishing the piece, Cathbad then concentrates on his breathing, breathing deeper and letting the breaths more regularly rise and fall. Once calmed, he makes a small contented noise, then taking an additional sip of the water. Though it is not cool, it still wets his mouth and throat, which is quite needed at this time. He gets himself another piece of bread and spread some jam upon it, savoring this nibble by nibble as he begins to take stock of his surrounds,... which he slowly begins to realize is Aalaryn's cottage.

With bucket in hand Aalaryn returns. She raises the bucket and pours half into the basin that rests beneath the small mirror and the rest into the large pitcher she uses for drinking before discarding the bucket to it's place outside of her door. The pitcher moves to it's spot on her table, by the bread and jam, and she's taking up a clean cloth and dipping it in the basin. She wrings it out so it is damp and turns around, gingerly dabbing Cathbad's forehead and face, wiping away the dirt and sweat. Her actions slow and she blinks, lowering the dampened cloth as she realizes she's fussing over him. 

Cathbad pauses in eating as his face is cleaned off, keeping still as if he is uncertain of what to do. When the cloth is lowered, his eyes leave the bread with more jam that he normally would take. His head turns with a somewhat puzzled expression as he looks to Aalaryn's face. He does not comment on this, but slowly take another bite, slowly chewing it.

Aalaryn offers a small smile, the damp cloth still in her hand. "Sorry about that," she takes a seat in the chair opposite of him. Not really knowing what to say she rests the cloth on the table and seems to be searching for something to say that is unrelated so it's not in the middle of an awkward silence. "If you'd like something other than bread and jam," she looks over to the stove for a moment then rises and goes over to it, nice distraction tactic, "I do have some stew left," she gently touches the pot with her hand, "it's warm yet."

Cathbad smiles in return to Aalaryn, "Perhaps in a bit," he says softly in a kind tone, then taking a further drink of his water, more than a sip, finally. "It... wasn't unwelcome," he similarly comments, reaching over to the cloth on the table. "That was the kindest anyone's been to me in quite some time," smiling a bit more confidently.

Aalaryn dishes up some of the stew she's got on the stove into a bowl. She grabs a spoon and brings the pair to Cathbad and gently sets them down on the table before resuming her seat. A smile forms upon her lips, "You've been more than kind to me, Cathbad," she pours herself some water and takes a sip, "it just seemed natural."

"As you say," followed by a silent 'my Aes Sedai', "Aalaryn," slowly bowing his head in thanks for her help. "I also enjoy your company, more than that of any other here," he says in a low whisper, almost conspiratorial in its near-treason. "I wonder why that is..." he idly muses, before checking his tongue and closing his mouth. With this, he coughs slightly, and takes another drink of his water. 

"Some might blame it on the weather," she gently teases him. When he coughs that concerned look returns though, "You would tell me if you were hurting, I mean more than just being tired, right?"

Cathbad takes a deep breath, looks into her eyes, and says sincerely, "If I was in more pain than a normal day, I would tell you. As it is, I just ache to my bones." Finishing his water, he then explains, "A long time ago, my injury," glancing down to his hip, "caused me pain, in addition to being a hinderance to walking. That has since been dulled severely, but," he says with a sigh, "Sometimes it'll twinge with a sharp hurt that soon passes. The limp, now, is mostly to keeping the pain to a minimum, but the leg also isn't as strong as the other."

Aalaryn pours more water into the empty cup. "I wish there was something I could do," she sighs softly, knowing that the herbs she has will barely touch it and also that she's not a Yellow, which is what he really needs is a Yellow to look at it and see if anything can be done.

Cathbad smiles curtly, "There's not any more than even a Yellow could do." With that, he sighs and looks down at his leg again, but keeps a frown from his face, instead forcing his expression neutral. Then, he looks back up to Aalaryn, and takes the cup with both hands, "It is kind of you just to make the offer," offering her a smile. The rational part of his mind does realize that even if there was something to do, she didn't say she would do anything, but it's enough to know she desired to be able to do something.

There are times that she wishes she wasn't bound by oaths, that she could explain her reasonings for her actions and have them accepted and this is one of those times. Instead Aalaryn gently rests her hand upon his, "Well I can't heal it, but I can maybe give you some herbs in a tincture for you to treat the pain with. That much is allowed."

Cathbad's eyebrows raise as the possibility is raised. "Well, perhaps that might work, as long as it doesn't dull one's wits or other senses," said in a manner that implies a question. With that, he sets down the cup and rests his other hand on Aalaryn's, "You are too kind to this haggard," pausing as he isn't strictly an Illuminator, nor a Wilder, nor yet truly a member of the Asha'man. Eventually he settles on simply, "man."

Aalaryn busies herself with settling the items for the tincture. She's been busy as she's actually made quite a few of these up in advance. "You're not haggard," she says over her shoulder, "I think they're trying to test your dedication," she selects two jars and returns to the table. "Now," she sets them down, "this one," she touches the one with blue cloth under the lid, "relieves pain, and this one," she touches a yellow cloth one, "reduces swelling. They won't fuzz your mind or anything but they take time to work." 

Cathbad nods, then eyes the two jars with cloths, "I think they're also trying to make us realize the full potential of what we can do, so we can be comfortable with weaving like that, before the Last Battle comes." Sighing, Cathbad pushes his staff back towards a wall, leaning it there, out of the way. The cloth-covered top of his staff has had quite a bit of sweat from his hands soak into it, though Cathbad pays this no mind. "Shall we see if they work, while having some of the stew?", he asks.

"Sounds good," The Red rises and fills another bowl of stew for herself, setting it down at her place but before she sits she helps to apply the pain relieving tincture. Once that is done she drags a small stool over for him to prop the foot up on. Washing her hands she returns to the table and sits down. "I so rarely have dinner guests, thank you for staying."


	13. With trust beautiful things can grow

It has been a day or so since Aalaryn had company at her little cabin, the effect was not one she'd have expected either. Nor did the wives. She was smiling while doing her chores, even the tedious and dirty ones. After she finished up her things she went home and changed. Her hair is loose and hangs about her face and shoulders. She is outside of her little cabin hanging up her own freshly washed clothes. Her clothes are simple, a white blouse under a bodice with a long green skirt that barely covers her ankles. 

Musing over the events of the last half-hour, Cathbad idly makes his way back towards Aalaryn's cabin, as if the route were there by rote now, with but one previous visit. Hesitating for a moment, the once-Illuminator stops some twenty feet away, slightly nervous for having trespassed this close to her privacy. However, setting his will to steel, and overcome his nerves, Cathbad begins walking in her direction, more slowly than before. Once nearby, he clears his throat and asks, "May I have the pleasure of a conversation, or are you busy with... chores?" The last word is said hesitantly, as he glances over to the washing she is hanging up. Averting his gaze to the ground, his eyes spot uncovered ankles and are fixed there. A bit of embarrassment starts to rise in the man's cheeks, before he clears his throat again. 

Aalaryn finishes smoothing out the last of what needs to dry. When she turns to face him there's a broad smile upon her lips, "My chores are done," she moves forward to close the distance between the pair, her bare feet on the grass, "and you never need to ask for conversation, Cath." She blinks then, wondering if it is alright that she has shortened his name. Not wanting to make it weird she gestures to the cottage, "we can sit inside or I can pull the chairs out here."

Cathbad looks up and smiles back towards Aalaryn. Saying her name, "Aalaryn," with a kindness, "I think sitting inside would be best at the moment, though it is a glorious day." With a deep breath, Cathbad inhales the pleasantness of the day and smiles happily. "Perhaps in a bit, we can sample the outside air." With that said, a look of seriousness slowly descends, first on his brow, then in his eyes and finally at the set of his jaw. With things said, he gestures for her to enter before him.

Aalaryn nods slowly and leads the way in, her smile still there because she has company but her mood is not as high as it was. The look on his face is far too serious for a social call. Never the less, she leads him in and moves to fill a cup for each of them with cider. "I'm afraid I just have apples, I haven't started making anything else today," she says as she places the cups of cider down on the table, waiting for him to select the seat in which he wishes to rest.

Cathbad follows Aalaryn in, taking the seat nearer the door and resting his staff against a nearby wall. Picking up the cider, he takes a sip, smiles slightly, then says, "It seems plans have changed. I will not be gone a week, but a day, and not to pit me against others, but to 'oversee' the fireworks at the Bel Tine festival. The fight against a more experienced channeler set on killing me will come later," shivering at the last. "I need to find a way to make what I can do, which isn't much, count the most... in ingenuity and effectiveness." After this, he smiles wryly and looks up to Aalaryn's face, "Also, I have been instructed to have my hands restrained when I try to channel." Cathbad awaits hearing Aalaryn's thoughts on this.

The color drains from Aalaryn's face, the good news of overseeing the display at the Festival seems to pass right through her as the words about fighting a more experienced channeler who will try to kill him with his hands restrained takes the full span of her attention. She nods and then lifts her cider and takes a drink, hoping to buy some time and to be able to keep her calm. She lowers her cup and rests it lightly upon the table, and all those plans just fade away, "They're going to try and kill you and at the same time restrain your hands?" She begins to pace, her bare feet making soft footprints on her dirt floor, "I don't like it.." she sighs, lifting her hand to cover her mouth. 

Shaking his head, "No," he begins, "I think they don't want me forecasting my weaves with unnecessary gestures, so when practicing, they have instructed me to do that. The confrontation, I would assume will come later." With that, Cathbad sighs and takes another sip of his cider. "I have some thoughts as far as that, but I will have to be quite creative to make up the difference," a wry look on his face. 

Aalaryn turns slowly, her hand still on her cheek, "How can you be so calm about this? They're going to try and kill you. Light! I know I can't weave well unless I can move my hands." She returns to her pacing with a worried sigh, her hair falling forward over her shoulders as she looks down for a moment at something on the ground before turning back around. The Arafellin's pacing stops and her back is towards you. She lifts her other arm and initially it looks like she's going to cross her arms across her chest, which is never a good sign when a woman does that, but instead her hand goes to her face so that both of her hands shield her face. She draws in a slow breath, looking for her own calm.

Cathbad stands up and circles around, moving to hold her hands with his and withdraw them from his face. "My hands are now restrained," he says with a smirk, before any sense of joy drains from his face as he assumes the Void. Reaching for Saidin, he pulls just a small amount of that burning torment and icy joy into himself. Looking down at the cup in front of Aalaryn, he pulls forth a flow of Fire, smaller than a finger, extending it to the cup. Inches before the flow reaches it, it splits into a double handful of fine threads which criss-cross the cup. Fully encompassed, Cathbad lets the weave take hold, heating the cup and the liquid within to a comfortably warm temperature. "Cider is best warm," he says flatly, before pushing away Saidin and with a breath, life fill his face again. "They train differently here. Forecasting ones actions with a twitch of the hand... gives an opponent that much more time to respond," he recites.

Aalaryn looks to you plaintively, "I am not saying that the White Tower's tests are any less dangerous," her eyes move to look at his hands as the cider is warmed up, her hands lightly squeeze his. "I just," she sighs and then looks up at Cathbad, "I am having a very hard time with the idea of you getting injured or worse. You are the kindest man I have met and I if something happened to you I don't know what I'd do."

Cathbad smiles kindly to Aalaryn, still holding her hands, "I... I understand. If anything unfortunate were to befall you, I'm apt to be distraught and rage against those responsible." With trepidation, he continues, "You are one of the kindest women I have met, Ryn," hoping the shortening of her name comes with the same acceptance his did.

Ryn. She likes that, she likes the name so much she smiles which isn't what she intended to do when you're speaking of raging against any who would be responsible if anything were to happen to her. "Promise me you will be safe," it's not a question per-say but more of a spoken request, "promise me that you won't let them out think you, that you will come back from that test," she gently brushes his shirt smooth in one spot, "will you do that for me?" She looks up at him. 

Looking down to her face, Cathbad bite his lip nervously, "I... promise to do my best to return from that test alive and well. I will be as safe as I can, and I hope to have an idea or two ready for the encounter. I fully expect to return," he says with confidence, "but I cannot speak in absolutes about the future, as I do not know it for a fact," he smiles and moves his arms around to gently hold her sides.

Aalaryn's smile returns, the promise is enough for her, and she nods, "I understand." As his arms move to her sides she steps forward a little while resting her hands lightly upon his shoulders. "And if I promised you another pie and a special dinner? Would you try harder?"

Cathbad gazes with a smile to Aalaryn. "I don't think I can try better than my best effort, unless I have outside assistance," offering a wry grin. "But, as a reward for motivation, I think that would work," chuckling lightly for a moment.

The Red...? Well is she really a Red? The Arafellin woman seems to accept the reasoning of Cath's words with a nod. "Good," and then Aalaryn raises up to her toes and places a kiss upon his cheek, "so would you like stew or a roasted chicken?" Wait, can she do that? Change the subject? 

Smiling at the kiss, the ex-Illuminator pulls her close and kisses his woman on the cheek, as she now is in his mind. Just as he is certain that he is hers. "Whatever the meal, it is sure to be excellent, as you put forth thought and effort into your every action." Closing his mouth to prevent himself from stumbling anymore, he pauses before adding, "or seem to," since he does not actually know this is the case. 

Aalaryn's cheeks now hold a rosy tinge to them, her smile has fully returned. "Oh!" she gently slips out of your hold and moves over to the small table by her bed where she picks something up. Her feet carry her lightly across the cottage and back to where you stand in booted feet. "Now," she begins, "this is an older custom," well she is old, "so please indulge me." She keeps whatever it is she picked up hidden in her hand while she picks up your left hand, "Open your hand up and close your eyes."

Looking curiously towards her as she steps away, a smile still on his face, Cathbad watches her move away and back. "Certainly," he says in response to her request, slowly closing his eyes, relying on his other senses to guide him. With a flourish, Cathbad twists and opens his left hand, almost as if the flower of a plant turning to the sun and opening for the first time.

Aalaryn is very quiet but you know she's still there by her breathing, and then by the touch of her hand upon yours. A familiar chime of bells can be heard and then the soft slick feel of silk follows the sound. When you open your eyes you see that it is one of her hair ribbons. "In Arafel when one would go to face danger it was tradition for the warrior to receive a token," she pauses and then corrects herself, "a favor."

Cathbad smiles fondly, and looks at the ribbon in his hand, "Is that so?", he asks softly as he draws it to his face, taking in a deep breath to perhaps catch the scent of her hair upon it. "It is the warrior's responsibility to then return said favor, once the danger was past, I take it?", he asks hesitantly. He is not exactly still in all this, but, strangely, his staff still rests against the wall.

"Yes." Aalaryn nods to him. "How is your leg.. the tincture? Did it help any?" She had forgotten to ask the other day and she had been so busy it had slipped her mind until now. She glances over and notes that the staff is by the wall still and that he is standing. 

Cathbad holds the favor close to his heart, and says, "I shall treasure it, while it is in my care," he says with a solemn kindness. Following her gaze to his staff, "It has been better, yes. Thanks to you." With the last, his right arm moves around to pull her towards him, to an intimate distance. "I have not yet thanked you for that," he says in a low whisper, meant for just them two. 

It always makes a Healer happy, well an aspiring one, to learn that their wares work well. She moves easily into the embrace and looks up at him, "You don't need to thank me, knowing that the pain is less is quite enough." 

Cathbad quiets her words with a kiss on the lips. Forward, isn't he? Parting to make space between them, Cathbad grins silently, looking down onto Ryn's face. He is just about certain how she'll react, but you never know with women. Some amount of satisfaction is in his eyes and smile, as he watches her.

Aalaryn is both speechless and breathless. Oh, if the Reds knew they'd spit golden eggs, and that'd be a sight to see! A bashful but sweet smile can be seen upon her lips and within her eyes. She never had expected.. why is she thinking? It's like all of the lessons from being a novice had just gotten thrown out the window and a faint giggle can be heard.

Breaking Guild rules himself, Cathbad quiets the giggle with another kiss, this one longer and slightly more pressing, accompanied by a slight squeeze. After the warm moment, Cathbad withdraws his lips from hers, staying close pressed to her, except if she should withdraw herself. Thinking he has no good words for this, Cathbad elects to remain quiet and let his actions speak for now.

Aalaryn's voice is a low whisper, unless someone was deliberately using the power to eavesdrop only Cath could hear her words. "Stay," she rests her head against his chest, her fingers fiddling with the collar of his shirt, "as long as you can without getting in trouble but, please stay." It is moments like this that Aalaryn is happy to forget that she is Aes Sedai, right now in this moment she is just Ryn.

Cathbad has the rest of the day for himself, pleasantly to spend with Ryn. "Of course," he says softly, kindness in his tone. "My day is yours," his hands moving slowly up and down her back. Cathbad, too, would like to forget the world outside the cottage, and be alone with her. For the moment, that is precisely what happens.

And those were just the words that Ryn wanted to hear. She lifts her arms and slides them between Cath's arms and his torso, embracing him closely. Rising up again she leans forward to place a sweet kiss upon his lips, the world - their world contains only two. Outside of the cottage the rest of the world goes on, children play, people train, crops grow and the sun shines brightly in the clear blue sky.


End file.
